


Tabris, Hero of Ferelden

by renegadewolf



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Rape/Non-con, Explicit Sexual Content, From Sex to Love, M/M, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Non-Graphic Violence, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Romance, Sexual Content, Threats of Rape/Non-Con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-17
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2017-12-26 21:20:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 142,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/970422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renegadewolf/pseuds/renegadewolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niko manages to get out of the wedding he never wanted, though at a terrible cost that he'd trade it back for. Now he does his family proud, while still leaving them behind to face their demons without him. Thrust into a role of leadership, he'll struggle across the country to unite an army, discovering new friends, long lost friends, and the complications of romance along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Summer Wedding

**Author's Note:**

> I have been posting this on my tumblr and on fanfiction.net under the username Kayf, and now I've decided to bring it over to AO3 as well. This is my first Dragon Age fic and it is the story of my Warden, Niko Tabris. It is my first multi-chapter fic, and there will be a sequel as well.
> 
> Surana (mage elf origin) will make an appearance later because I feel like, of all the origins, it's the mage who has the best chance of surviving the events of their origin if Duncan isn't there to recruit them.
> 
> Thank you all for reading. Hope you enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Niko Tabris wakes up on the morning of his big day. Running away is still an option...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: The first two chapters deal with the events of the City Elf Origin, so warnings for mentions of sexual assault. There are no graphic scenes here, but it is mentioned.
> 
> Chapter Rating: T (doesn't become M until chapter 10)

Shianni looked excited as she went off to find the other Bridesmaids and her dress, leaving Niko sitting on the lower mattress of the rickety bunk-bed.

'Well at least someone is happy about the wedding,' he thought.

Niko Tabris sure wasn't. And he could imagine Soris, his cousin and fellow groom in the double-wedding, was just as nervous.

Niko dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, hoping this was all just a bad dream.

He hadn't slept well the last few nights, too frazzled and alert to fall into anything close to a peaceful rest as the wedding drew near. He'd gone out in the middle of the night to climb the rooftops and practice with his bow and arrows. He preferred the dual weapons his mother mentored him in; the close combat of a short blade and the swift, fluid movements it took to wield them. But archery was a useful skill, and Adaia had always taught him to be practical.

He sighed, wishing his mother were here for his wedding. Maybe she'd have helped him to get out of it. Or maybe, since she wasn't a fool, she would have simply helped him get through it. But she would have at least listened to him. And he could really use someone that would listen to him for once.

He didn't want to get married. He didn't want to settle down and start a family. No one cared what he wanted though. Whenever he tried to tell any of this to someone, they just chuckled and asked what he expected to do instead. They never actually listened to his ideas though. And why would they? What kind of life did an elf from the city expect to have? How could any of them ask for more than a hovel in the Alienage, a menial job, and a family to raise into the exact same life?

Niko shook his head as he moved to the wash basin to clean up a little. What was expected of him was so different than what he'd always envisioned for himself. He wanted to see the world, to travel beyond the Alienage walls and out of Denerim, to sail seas, and climb mountains.. or die trying.

Staring at the chipped and rotted wood of the wall in front of him, he felt that dream slipping further and further away.

Cyrion was tending to the fireplace when he saw that Niko was up and moving.

"Morning, my son. It's your big day!" He said happily as he set the fire poker down. The shadows of flames flickered over his aging face as he looked to his son, regarding him with pride and sadness. "Oh I wish your mother could have been here."

Niko frowned and dried his hands, hesitating on what he wanted to say. "Could we talk about this arrangement?"

"Still not pleased I can see," his father said, unsurprised. "Of course we can talk."

Niko heaved a sigh, unsure he wanted to try this conversation again, but he just had to. "Do I really have to get married?"

As he anticipated, his father simply explained what Niko already knew; that marriage was what set the children apart from the adults, that he wouldn't be taken seriously until he was wed.

While no elf in Denerim was anything but poor compared to the general population, Cyrion had been working as a servant in a Bann Rodolf's employ for years and was much better off than many of the elves in the Alienage. Niko was well aware that his father had paid a nice dowry to the family of his betrothed. He was a good father who always wanted the best for his son, which was why Niko hated to complain.

"But I don't want to get married," he said, almost appalled at himself for how close that had sounded to whining. He was being sincere though. The idea of marriage terrified him. Since he was a kid, all he'd ever wanted was to see more, do more, and be more, like heroes in the stories he heard. He'd always wanted to put the training his mother gave him to proper use on real adventures. He'd long ago grown out of corralling the other elven children into the market streets for "swordplay", nearly poking each other's eyes out with sticks as they battled epic monsters brought to life only by their imagination.

But with marriage came responsibilities at home. Once he was wed, the hand that reached out for those distant hopes and dreams would be severed.

His father chuckled, shattering Niko's melodramatic reflections. "I understand, son. Before I met Adaia, I was ready to go hunt for the Dalish."

Niko smiled a little at the idea of his father, young and ready to run out on his wedding to find wild elves, only to change his mind once he laid eyes on his bride. The implication made Niko wonder if he'd feel the same once he met his betrothed too.

He highly doubted it though. He'd already come to the realization that, while he did think girls were very pretty, he was far more attracted to men. Of course, being such a close community, most people in the Alienage had caught wind of that juicy bit of gossip when he'd been caught sneaking around with a strapping young city guard.

It was a long story.

And he suspected the scandal played a part in why his father and the Elder wanted to marry him off all of a sudden, though no one had said anything of the sort.

"Just be glad I chose the match," Cyrion went on. "Without parents to represent you, children like your cousin Soris end up marrying whoever the Elder can find."

"So who did the Elder find for him?"

"I don't know. I haven't met the girl. If you're curious, you should go find out for yourself," his father suggested, sounding like he wanted to end the conversation. "Alright, time for you to go find Soris. The sooner this wedding starts, the less chance you two have to escape."

Niko tossed him a smirk before turning towards the footlocker near his bunk-bed.

"A small chance is still a chance."

His father chuckled again. "Still have your mother's smart mouth I see."

Niko smiled. He was always glad when others likened him to his mother, whether they meant it as praise, tease, or an insult. She'd been a bit of a wild one when she was alive and Niko was cut from the same cloth. And everybody knew it.

"Oh one last thing before you go," his father said to him as Niko got his wedding clothes out of the footlocker. They were fine, silken garments - almost too garish for his liking, but the colors were subdued enough.

"Your martial training..." his father went on and Niko was sure he was not going to like this. "The swordplay, knives, and whatever else your mother taught you. Best not to mention it to your betrothed."

Niko frowned as he knelt down to tuck the bottoms of his striped pants into his boots. "She'll find out sooner or later."

"Later. Hm. Definitely later," Cyrion advised. "We don't want to seem like trouble-makers, after all. Adaia made that mistake."

Niko winced, feeling old remnants of anger rise in his chest as he straightened to face his father. "The humans who killed her made a bigger one."

"Our word is full of so many injustices," his father said, sounding a bit drained as he turned away. Niko was too angry to regret saying it though. His father was right. There were so many injustices. Too many. And he didn't want to stay here and see more oppression forced on his people. He wasn't sure he could do any less than his mother had and get killed over it someday.

Knowing the conversation was over and there was no chance of calling off the wedding, he felt disheartened and nearly didn't hear his father's next words as he gently placed a pair of leather boots into his arms. "Take these. Your mother wanted you to have them."

Niko held the boots with care, running his fingers over the pattern of vines that marked them. A faint smile crossed his face.

His mother was gone, yes, but they carried her memory with them. And he'd carry her memento to the wedding since she couldn't be there herself, he decided, slipping off the boots he'd been wearing and putting these ones on instead.

His father shooed him off then to go find Soris.

Niko stepped outside to the dirt and ramshackle homes of the Alienage. Down the cobblestone path, near the gate entrance, he heard some interesting drunken poetry from some celebrators. It was good to see everyone in such high spirits. Weddings were cause for revelry among the whole community and he'd be gulping ale and having fun too if it weren't his wedding.

And it did seem as if everyone was celebrating, except for him. The place was crowded with people talking about how grand the wedding would be and congratulating him as he passed. He went by the Vhenadahl tree and heard an older couple talking about how much he looked like his mother and father. After chatting with them, he learned they were friends of his family - Dilwyn and Gethon. They gave him 15 silver coins as a wedding gift, and the option of running out on the ceremony suddenly seemed like a bratty thing to do. Though he ended up giving most of the coin to an old friend, Nessa, so she and her family could stay in the Alienage. Apparently their human landlord decided to turn their home into storage. What an ass.

He'd always liked Nessa. She was strikingly beautiful and she was never as impressed with Niko (or afraid of him) like a lot of their other peers in the Alienage. He'd been quite the little ringleader as a child after all. Once he handed her the silvers though, she was awestruck, pulling him into a hug and exclaiming that she loved him before running off to convince her parents to accept the charity and stay in Denerim.

Niko then stopped by Alarith's store, hoping he could linger inside and pretend it was just any other day, perusing the shopkeeper's more discreet goods. Niko did a bit of work for some "interested parties" in Denerim, which mostly meant a bit of low-grade smuggling, leaving things at drop points, or playing the hired blade to make sure a negotiation went smoothly. Alarith's shop benefited from some of the smuggling work Niko had his hands in. Yet Niko found no refuge here as his friend shooed him away, knowing what he was trying to do. The store was closed for the wedding anyway and Alarith wanted to get ready for the festivities. So the young groom wandered around the corner, where some kids were playing, pretending to be King Maric and other human heroes.

"Why don't you play as elves?" he asked them.

"Do you know any stories about elven heroes?" the little girl rightfully asked.

Niko didn't, but that didn't mean none existed. So he made one up and told them the story of Tathas, the sneaky bandit, and smiled proudly as he walked away listening to them argue over who got to play as his fictional heroine.

When he reached the gates on the other side of the Alienage, he caught sight of the distinctive red hair that many of his family members had. Soris removed himself from the tree he'd been leaning against when he noticed him approaching. Niko tried not to grimace at the sight his cousins' bright wedding clothes clashing with his fiery hair.

"Well if it isn't my lucky cousin," Soris said. "Care to celebrate the end of our independence together?"

"Is running away still an option?" Niko asked with a mirthless smile.

"Are you insane? Where would you go?" Soris challenged. "Into the woods to live with the Dalish elves?"

Seemed like going off to join the Dalish was a popular alternative when young city elves were faced with marriage. They both heard all the stories about the Dalish from Alarith before. Alarith had been a slave in Tevinter and claimed he met a Dalish clan when he escaped to Ferelden. A lot of people in the community thought they were just a myth, a story passed down by the Hahren. Niko didn't hold much of an opinion on them himself.

"I'm just not thrilled at the idea of getting married," he admitted to his cousin.

"You're not thrilled? Apparently, your bride is a dream come true. Mine sounds like a dying mouse."

Niko rolled his eyes, but smiled. He couldn't blame Soris since he wasn't exactly cheerful about this arrangement himself. He briefly wondered if he'd be more excited if his betrothed were a muscled smith or sailor. Maybe. If the guy had a ship for them to sail off on. Ah, he could dream at least.

"I'm sure she's quite nice," Niko attempted to reassure his cousin, though his distinct lack of enthusiasm made his words ineffective.

Soris rolled his eyes.

If his cousin had shown any interest in running out on the wedding, Niko might have actually made a serious plan to escape. It would be just like him to do something like that, dragging Soris right along for the ride. But they were supposed to be adults now, at least that's what this day was partly supposed to signify. Running out and disappointing everyone would be a childish thing to do.

They bumped into Elva then. She had a lot to complain about as always, though they'd done nothing but greet her.

"A lot of good a wife'll do you," she said to Niko snidely. "We all know you're into a different sort."

Soris's ears turned red as he started shifting from foot to foot. Clearly he was more bothered by the remark than the person it was directed at. Niko had to wonder if his cousin even believed those particular rumors about him. Niko himself had never confirmed or denied them, especially after they took an exaggerated turn, as rumors often do. It just didn't do for a young elf to prefer to dally with men instead of women. Maybe in other places it wasn't a big deal, but marriage and having children was such an important part of the Alienage culture. The part about his liaison being with a human… Well, that was another thing elves just didn't do (or weren't supposed to do, rather).

"M-maybe we should go find our brides," Soris suggested.

"Maybe you should, so you can leave me alone," Elva spat.

Niko nodded and looked back at the bitter woman as they turned to walk away.

That's about when the trouble started.

The gates were closed, supposed to be keeping trouble out. But since when did that stop the shemlen from going where they wanted to go? Niko froze as three nicely-dressed humans walked in, their apparent leader grabbing hold of one of the bridesmaids. Niko knew her; her name was Nola. She cried out and struggled, freeing herself from the man's groping hands and ran from him, though he'd wrenched her arm in the process.

Rage boiled inside of Niko as the despicable human told his friends to grab some "whores". He loudly singled Shianni out too, spiking Niko's protective instincts - the ones burned into him by his mother's murder.

He felt like a guard dog on a leash when Soris whispered to him that they shouldn't get involved.

"I won't let these humans abuse the women," he said through clenched teeth.

Soris's eyes widened as the human apparently took notice of them and came over.

"What's this?" the shem asked, mocking. "The two grooms come to welcome me personally?"

The much taller man walked into Niko's space, trying to intimidate. His smelled faintly of ale mixed with expensive fragrances.

Niko looked up to meet the man's gaze. His indignation overwhelmed his desire to keep his own hide intact, which was what kept his feet firmly planted as the human towered over him.

"You need to leave," Niko warned as he stood his ground.

The man, 'Vaughan' his friend had called him, scoffed. And like all pompous assholes, he expected them to know just who he was. Like they knew every self-important shem in Denerim.

Behind the man, Shianni was moving towards something, attempting to be inconspicuous. Niko noticed out of the corner of his eye that Soris was trying to silently gesture for her to stop. Vaughan noticed this too and turned around just in time to take a bottle to the head, knocking him out cold.

Everyone was silent and still for a moment as they stared on, trying to pretend that wasn't blood staining the noble's fair hair. No one could believe what just happened.

Shianni looked quite satisfied with herself though, and Niko couldn't help but be proud of her as the pervert lay unmoving on the ground.

"Are you insane?" one of the dirt-bag's followers yelled as he ran over. "That's the Arl of Denerim's son!"

The righteous anger immediately melted from Shianni's expression then. She slowly raised her hands to cover her face as she realized how much shit they were in. "Oh maker..."

Niko knew it too, but that didn't dampen his malice for these bastards. "Then just imagine what we'll do to you two," he threatened, turning his vehement glare on them. His anger swelled. How dare they come here, to their home, on a day of celebration, and then act surprised when they defended themselves!

"You've a lot of nerves knife-ears," the other man warned. He seemed to study Niko's face, as if to memorize it for later. "This'll go bad for you."

He and the other human picked up Vaughan. Soris attempted to calm Shianni down while Niko scowled at the two men carrying their comatose friend away. Shianni eventually ran off to clean up, and Niko was suddenly aware of the two other women approaching them.

Soris introduced the shorter-haired girl in the gaudy yellow gown as his betrothed, Valora.

Niko looked to the other woman, presumably his fiancée. Her name was Nesiara.

His first impression was that she was friendly, likeable and every bit as pretty as Soris had implied. She really was stunning, dressed in a white blouse and adorned with gems, her green eyes matched by the sweep of color on her eyelids. He wondered if she was as reluctant about this marriage as he was.

"Well here we are," she looked to him, a small smile on her lips. "Are you nervous?"

He met her gaze, unsurprised to find that meeting her hadn't made him want to run away any less. Not that it was a viable option anymore. She seemed like a nice person, really, but they were supposed to get married? Right now?

"Not really," he answered, glancing down at his mother's boots. It was true. He wasn't nervous anymore. He was just discouraged. Now that the commotion was over, he was brought back to the reality of today. It seemed his life was going to go exactly the way everyone expected it to, rather than the way he'd always dreamt it would. "Are you?" He asked her.

"I was nervous on the trip down, but now that I'm here..." She sighed, sounding distant and dreamy. And Niko glanced up to see the happiness in her eyes. "I'm looking forward to what's next."

Niko felt heat rise to his ears, and was grateful his skin was too tan for it to be very noticeable. She was imagining her future too. Their future together. Probably full of kids, and a house in the Alienage, and him in a respectable job - perhaps a Bann's servant like his father. He grimaced, feeling like a total ass for seeing it as a curse while she was so looking forward to it.

When the brides left to get ready, Nesiara joked about hunting him down if he tried to run off. He forced a smile, wondering if she was merely teasing or could tell he'd been seriously considering it. She actually had quite an appealing personality and he wouldn't have minded getting to know her a bit without a marriage looming over them.

"Don't look now, but we have another problem," Soris warned.

"What do you mean?" Niko asked, turning to see what his cousin was looking at.

"Another human just walked in."

Niko looked to the gates where a dark-skinned, dark-haired man entered, well-armed and armored. On principal, everyone in the Alienage was wary of humans coming into their home. Niko, for one, did not hate all of them on principal however. Despite the fact that his mother had been killed by humans, and that truth taxed him on this, it was Adaia herself who taught him that not all humans were bad.

"Let's go talk to him," Niko suggested. This man was, so far, not making any intrusions like Vaughan and his men had. So Niko decided to be tactful first.

"Good day," the man greeted upon their approach. "I understand congratulations are in order for your impending wedding."

Niko was careful not to show it, but he was surprised by the man's graciousness. "Thanks. But..." He glanced at Soris, who still looked nervous. The poor guy. He was actually somewhat on-board with this wedding business and he already had to deal with Vaughan, and now another potential problem. "Please go," he told the human. "We'd rather avoid any unpleasantness."

"What manner of unpleasantness might you be referring to?" the human asked.

Niko shook his head. Was this guy seriously that out of the loop about how things worked, or was he messing with them? "The Alienage just isn't a good place for humans to be."

"I'm sorry, but I have no intention of leaving," the human told him bluntly.

Niko glanced to the dual blades the man carried on his back, aware but unafraid. "Fine. Maybe we can compromise?"

"He keeps his composure even when facing an unknown and armed human," the man noted conversationally to someone behind them. "A true gift, wouldn't you say, Valendrian?"

Niko turned to see the Elder coming over to stand with the human.

"I would say the world has far more use of those who know how to stay their blades," Valendrian replied, almost chiding. "It is good to see you again, my old friend. It has been far too long."

Niko watched this interaction with interest, and suddenly felt disrespectful. "I'm sorry. I had no idea..."

"I was hardly forthcoming, and for that I apologize," the human said, and Niko was beginning to like him.

Valendrian looked to the grooms. "May I present Duncan, head of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden."

Niko nodded to the man. "Well met, Duncan."

"And you, lad."

Soris shifted awkwardly while Niko lingered to listen to the exchange between the two men, though it had nothing to do with him. At the mention of the word "Blight", Niko glanced to Soris but was disappointed to see he wasn't following the conversation at all.

But he was discouraged from asking about it by Valendrian, who then went off to prepare for the wedding ceremony. Soris wandered off too, and Niko was about to follow, but dread filled him at the prospect of going anywhere. As if leaving this spot meant stepping directly into his unwanted future.

He glanced to Duncan, who was watching him with an unreadable expression.

Well the Elder was gone now, so there was nothing to stop him from asking questions.

"I'm curious about the Grey Wardens," he said. "What exactly do they do?"

"We dedicate out lives to fighting darkspawn wherever they appear, doing whatever it takes to stop them. It is our only charge."

Niko inclined his head in curiosity. "Are there elven Grey Wardens?"

He was surprised to hear Duncan not only answer in the affirmative, but to mention one specifically by name; Garahel. He wondered why he'd never heard of this elven hero before, and he was reminded of the children playing make-believe games about Tathas. If only he'd been able to tell them about Garahel, whoever he was. Duncan wasn't about to tell him the story right now, but Niko decided that he would have to learn it sometime.

"How do you know the elder?" he asked then.

"Valendrian and I have known each other for almost twenty years... since the time I tried to recruit your mother, in fact."

That certainly got Niko's attention. His mother had been a skilled rogue, and imagining her as a slayer of monsters made him feel like a little boy again, hero-worshiping her as he did.

"You tried recruiting my mother?" he asked, surprise in his tone.

"I did. Your mother was a fiery woman," Duncan said, sounding impressed even after two decades. "She would have made an excellent Grey Warden."

"So what happened?" Niko asked because, obviously, Adaia hadn't joined the Order.

"I never made the offer," Duncan told him. "Valendrian convinced me it was better for her to remain here with her family. As there was no Blight, and thus no immediate need for recruits, I deferred to his wishes. But it seems she passed her training on to you, am I right?"

Niko nodded, intrigued, as apparently Duncan had already heard things about him. Most people in the Alienage did, but Duncan wasn't from around here.

Again, though, he was reminded of his pressing wedding business and wasn't able to ask anything else about it.

When he found himself on the decorated platform with Soris and their brides, the nerves really kicked in and he felt his heart trying to beat its way out of his chest.

"I can't do this..." he grumbled.

"You had your chance to run." Soris teased, smirking at him. "Coward!"

Valendrian opened with a speech before the Chantry Mother started the ceremony.

They didn't get far, and Niko would have welcomed any interruption... except for this one.


	2. A Day for Decapitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding is interrupted when the bridal party is kidnapped by the Arl's son. Niko and Soris plan a rescue with a little help from Duncan and the outraged residents of the Alienage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warning: Sexual assault (non-graphic)
> 
> Chapter Rating: T

Vaughan.

He and his friends - escorted by personal armed guards - started rounding up the women, acting like he had the  _right_ to abduct their people for his purposes.

His "purposes" that he happened to be very vocal about, completely unashamed.

Soris was panicking. Niko was infuriated, stepping down from the stage to intervene. He didn't care who these noble pigs were. This was vile, and he was not going to allow it to just happen in front of him. How could this evil bastard walk in and expect to take people like they belonged to him?

They wouldn't even listen to Mother Boann.

"Hah! If you want to dress up your pets and play tea parties, that's your business. But don't pretend this is a proper wedding," Vaughan mocked in response to her protests.

Those words seemed to pierce worse than anything else.

Niko smelled blood, metaphorically speaking (at least so far). It was too much to hope for, but the looks some of the other elves gave this loathsome human made Niko think he might not be alone if it came to a fight. It wouldn't help of course. There were four armored guards here who would think nothing of cutting them down. Even all the bare hands of the elves would still just be flesh against metal.

"Don't worry. I'll return whatever's left in time for the _'honeymoon'_ ," Vaughan promised the grooms, voice dripping with ill-intent.

"I'll kill you," Niko threatened vehemently as he took a step forward. That was  _his_ promise.

"I live in fear," Vaughan taunted, turning as the elf advanced on him. "Back to the palace, boys."

Niko saw the other man just in time to get backhanded, hard.

\---

The next thing he heard was Soris' soft voice. "Can you hear me cousin. Are you alright?"

He opened his eyes and clutched his throbbing head when Soris helped him to his feet. "What happened?" Niko hissed.

Soris threw his arms in the air as he explained the mess. The elves were riled up over this, and Niko hadn't been the only one roughed up. The Grey Warden and Valendrian were currently discussing what to do.

"We should see if we can help," Niko insisted as he made his way over to the crowd, Soris in tow.

"That sounds dangerous," his cousin said, and Niko resisted the urge to scowl at him. "Let's see what they're talking about," Soris suggested instead.

It wasn't too much of a surprise that, though everyone was justifiably upset, there was a general assent that they couldn't do much about it. One of Niko's cousins, who was also Shianni's older brother, wasn't letting it go though.

"So we do nothing!?" he said. "They took my sister!"

"Where are the women now?" Niko demanded as he stepped forward. He felt the tone of the crowd change then. The resolve in his voice quieted the elves, and many panicked expressions turned to ones of expectancy.

"They're at the Arl of Denerim's place," Valendrian informed. "Normally, I'd counsel patience. Unfortunately, stories about the Arl's son and his 'appetites' are... most disturbing."

"Then we need to do something. Now." Niko was adamant. He'd go alone if he had to.

_So many injustices._

"But what can we do?" Shianni's brother asked, helpless. Niko noticed he sported a black eye that wasn't there before the disturbance.

A tan, dark-haired elf spoke up. "I work inside the palace. I could sneak one, perhaps two others in through the servant's entrance. Nobody will notice an extra pair of elves around."

"We can be in and out before anyone knows the difference," Niko said.

That was the plan. Valendrian was behind them, Niko was glad. It was good to see that almost everyone was up in arms about this, instead of biting their tongues. Of course there were still some who protested, preferring that they let the girls endure their time with the Arl's son rather than bring more trouble down on the Alienage.

Duncan gently took Niko aside. "Are you ready for what you are about to do?"

"I'm enraged and murderous, how about that?" he snapped. He was so angry; angry at Vaughan, angry that the Chantry would do nothing, angry that no one outside the Alienage would care about their plight, angry that his cousin was in danger. He was even a little angry at Duncan because he couldn't get involved any more than offering them a good sword (much better than any of Niko's own weaponry of course).

"You must tame your rage," Duncan said and, unsurprisingly, the advice only stoked the flames of wrath in the young elf. "An enraged fighter makes mistakes, perhaps fatal ones. Clarity of thought is the path to victory," he implored.

Niko wanted to slaughter Vaughan and his men. But Duncan was right. He had to keep his composure, for Shianni's sake. For the sake of all the women that were taken.

He let out a frustrated sigh and looked to Duncan. "Will you tell me now why you came here?"

"To find recruits," Duncan answered, which was what Niko had been hoping to hear since he met the man. "I had hoped to speak to you, but your elder outmaneuvered me," Duncan went on. "I suspect this is why your wedding was moved forward: in hopes that I might let you remain. Valendrian did the same thing when I came to recruit your mother."

So that was why. Niko frowned, a bit miffed with Valendrian, but he'd never speak ill of the Alienage Hahren. There were more important things to address anyway.

Upon speaking with him though, Duncan's suspicions were confirmed. The Elder admitted to pushing the wedding to shield Niko from being recruited. The young elf wasn't angry at hearing this though. He felt.. cared for. Valendrian had been trying to protect him and keep him amongst his own people after all.

"To be a Grey Warden is a noble calling," Valendrian told him. "But the path is lonely and painful. I hope you understand I had your best interests in mind."

"It's alright, Elder. I understand," he told him.

Because he did understand. They looked out for one another in the Alienage. That's why he had no choice but to go to the Arl's estate.

\---

Their inside man got them in through the servant's entrance, smuggled weapons and all.

They moved swiftly, running into a few slight snags - the cook made them for bandits, but an elven servant named Adwen knocked him out. It put a wry smile on Niko's face. He was even more satisfied to nab some brandy and a bit of poison from the kitchen storage room. It came in handy in the dining hall when some idiots demanded he get them drinks. Niko was only _glad_ to serve. He apologized for being so slow and poured them their drinks; the poison worked within seconds.

They found Nola dead.

The guards were openly contemplating the idea of violating her corpse when Niko and Soris walked in. Niko did his best to tame his rage as Duncan had advised, slaying them quick and efficiently with the borrowed longsword.

Niko was proud of Soris. He was clearly disturbed after the first kills, but didn't slow down. He'd never had to murder anyone before. But time was of the essence and they both knew that they could not pause.

They ripped through many guards on the way, and stole pieces of the ill-fitting armor for their own protection. It came in handy when they came face-face with a body guard wielding a heavy battle-axe outside Vaughan's room. Niko took him head on while Soris flanked him. The guard had a great deal of size and strength to his advantage, so Niko could do little more than maneuver around him with his speed. When Soris ducked a swing of the axe, he found a weak point in the guard's armor. He drove a stolen dagger into the man's knee, causing him to howl in pain and giving Niko the opportunity to make the killing blow. Quickly, they recovered and charged into Vaughan's quarters to find him, his two men, and Shianni.

She was held down, crying on the floor, her torn dress stained with her own blood from their rough handling.

"My, my, what have we here?" Vaughan turned to them, his tone theatrical and lecherous as he stood to fasten his clothes.

Niko's lip curled into a sickened snarl. The man was revolting.

"We'll make short work of these two," one of his half-dressed friends piped up, going to grab their discarded weapons.

"Quiet, you idiot! They're covered with enough blood to fill a tub," Vaughan pointed out. "What do you think that means?"

 _'So he isn't a_ _ **complete**_ _fool,'_  Niko thought.

He glanced to Shianni curling in on herself on the floor, bruised and bleeding, her eyes full of fright and anger.

_'He's still a dead man.'_

"You tell me," The fire in Niko's eyes were focused on Vaughan as he gripped the hilt of his dagger. He wanted to rip off the man's arm and beat him with it.

"Alright, let's not be too hasty here," Vaughan said diplomatically. "Surely we can talk this over."

"No!" Niko raged. "I want your head, nothing else!"

He attacked, and Vaughan went for his blades, bringing them up just in time to clash metal with metal.

Vaughan had some training, but no experience in real life or death combat. He was also slightly inebriated and unarmored. He took a stab at Niko, who stepped aside from the blow and unleashed a series of messy but critical strikes against the humans. White hot rage gave him tunnel vision. He was letting his anger effect his precision, instead favoring savage bloodshed. But they still stood no chance against him. Niko got what he wanted. He finished the battle with a hard swipe of the borrowed sword and beheaded the Arl's son.

There was a thud as the decapitated head fell to the floor. Then the room - filled with the sick, metallic smell of spilled blood - turned quiet and tense.

"He... he's dead…" Soris said in disbelief. Now that they were no longer being constantly attacked, it was all sinking in for him.

They'd just killed people. The Arl's son was murdered at their hand.

He gave Niko a strained look. "Tell me we did the right thing, cousin."

"Of course we did," Niko answered gruffly, wiping blood from his brow. His anger had found its target, but it still swelled in him whenever he caught a glimpse of Shianni. The damage had been done to his kin already. There could not be enough penance for this crime, not even with Vaughan's death. Consequences for their own misconduct were inevitable, but it didn't matter to him at the moment. "What's important is that Shianni is safe."

"I'll go look for the others," Soris decided, wincing as he looked to their battered cousin. "Shianni needs you." He spared another glance at her as he left to search for the rest of the captured bridal party.

The door shut, and Shianni's sniffling cries broke the brief silence as they turned to heaving sobs. It was heart-breaking, knowing her pain went beyond any physical injury. Niko felt a terrible weight as he passed the bloody remains of Vaughan and his men, dropping to his knees on the floor next to Shianni.

"D-don't leave me alone... please," she sobbed, reaching for his hands. "Please take me home."

Niko felt the rabid fury unfurl in his chest and he clutched her hands firmly in his own.

 _So many injustices_ , he heard his father's voice.

 _Too_ many.

He wished he could kill Vaughan again and again. He wished Shianni could have felt what he had.. in that moment when he severed Vaughan's head from his shoulders. The fountain of blood spouting from the lifeless body had utterly filled him with a fleeting, yet powerful, sense of pure vengeance.

"Yes," he forced himself to speak through the haze of bloodthirsty rage that blurred his vision and sat heavily in his chest. "Let's go home."

"So much blood... It's everywhere. I can't stand to look at it," she turned her watery eyes to him, a spark of hope and retribution in them. "You killed them, didn't you? You killed them all."

He nodded, his gaze meeting hers. "Like dogs, Shianni."

"Good," her voiced wavered. "Good..."

\---

"Vaughan's dead," Niko informed Valendrian and Duncan as soon as they stepped through the gates.

Valendrian's jaw clenched.

"Then the garrison could already be on their way," Duncan said. "You have little time."

Niko shook his head, feeling oddly numb now that his mission was over. Whatever consequences awaited him, he did not see a way out. They'd killed an Arl's son and a whole slew of guardsmen. The women were home, but he'd still failed Shianni. And Nola.

Nothing would mend this.

"I'm not sure what we should do," he admitted, and looked up to Valendrian with wide eyes when he felt the Elder's hand on his shoulder.

Shianni's brother ran up, frantic. "The guards are here!"

"Do not panic," Valendrian said, his hand on Niko's shoulder tightening before letting him go. "Let's see what comes of this."

Niko watched the Elder walk away to meet the guards. He hung his head, feeling Duncan's eyes on him.

His life was over...

"You will not stop justice from being done!" Niko heard the guard shout at Valendrian when he walked onto the scene.

 _'Justice_ _ **has**_ _been done,_ ' Niko reminded himself, clenching his fist. It was a small reassurance as his stomach did flips, much worse than the butterflies he'd felt at the wedding. Evidently, he was headed for a fate much worse than his unwanted marriage.

"The Arl's son lies dead in a river of blood that runs through the entire palace!" The guard said it in accusation, but Niko silently reveled in the memory.  _He_ did that to those bastards, and it was his only consolation right now. "I need names," the guard continued. "And I need them now!"

Niko didn't hesitate to step forward, his hard green eyes on the guard Captain. "It was my doing."

They were hesitant to believe he managed to do such a thing on his own, but no one was offering up any other names.

"We are not all so helpless, Captain," Valendrian said, managing to back Niko's story without even lying.

"You save many by coming forward. I don't envy your fate, but I applaud your courage," the man stated and then turned to the crowd. "This elf will wait in the dungeons until the Arl returns. The rest of you, back to your houses!"

Niko nodded tersely, resigned to this fate. The only thing he really had to look forward to now was getting to tell the Arl what a sick bastard his son was, if he got the chance.

"Captain, a word if you please," Duncan interjected.

"What is it, Grey Warden?" the guard asked, annoyed. "The situation is well under control as you can see."

"Be that as it may, I hereby invoke the Grey Warden's Right of Conscription. I remove this prisoner into my custody."

Many eyes turned to Duncan.

"You can do that?" Niko asked, lifting his gaze to the man, and he heard the hope return to his own voice.

"Son of a tied down-" The guard cut himself off and recovered his manners. "Very well, Grey Warden. I cannot challenge your right, but I'll ask you one thing..." The man pointed at Niko. "Get this elf out of the city.  _Today_."

"Agreed," Duncan said.

"Now, I need to get my men on the streets before the news hits. Move out!"

"You're with me now," Duncan said as he turned to face Niko, his newest recruit. "Say your goodbyes. We leave immediately."

"But what's going to happen here?" Niko asked, feeling thrown. He went from being doomed to be wed, then doomed to be imprisoned, and then doomed to be a Grey Warden all within a matter of hours. All he was quite sure of at this moment was that he was leaving is family. He'd always wanted to see more beyond the city, yes, but now it was actually happening, in such a way he never imagined, and he felt his world being turned upside down.

"For the moment they are fine. There are far more important matters arising that endanger more than just your people," Duncan told him. "I needed a Grey Warden and I found one. That conscripting you saved your life is only circumstance. You did what you had to do to accomplish your mission. We need people like you. Now quickly, say your goodbyes. Your life here is over."

Niko turned around to see the crowd had dispersed and his cousin, Soris, already shucked of his stolen armor, was approaching him.

"Thank you," the red-haired elf said quietly. "You really saved my hide back there…"

"What will you do now?" Niko asked him.

"No more daydreaming, I'm settling down. Valora's a good woman, and she has ideas on making life better for everyone here." There was some hard determination in Soris's voice that soon softened as he went on. "The Elder had the women take Shianni back to your place... Will you see her before you go?"

"Of course I will."

"Good luck, cousin. You've been my hero since we were kids. It's just official now," Soris admitted and they both smiled.

Niko reached out to grasp Soris's shoulder, squeezing gently before turning to walk to his home. He passed the Vhenadahl tree, slowing to run his hand over the rough bark, remembering the hot days spent under its comforting shade, and his desire to climb to the very top as a child.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Ms. Surana, a woman he'd known his whole life. He had been friends with her son, Alim, before his magic was discovered and he was taken to the Circle. She was smiling at him, the lines around her blue eyes crinkling as she came closer to Niko. "This is the best thing for you dear," she said tenderly, reaching out to take his hand in both of hers and giving him an honest gaze. "But we're all sad to see you go."

"You're lucky that Duncan was here to help you out," a man next to them added.

"I think this is a good thing," Niko said, smiling nervously at both of them.

Ms. Surana touched his cheek, looking at him wistfully - perhaps thinking of her son - before letting him go.

He turned to see Dilwyn and her husband, Gethon, offering him tight smiles as he approached. "Maybe this is for the best," she offered. The words rang a little false to his ears, but Niko thought that it might be a truer statement than the woman believed.

Since he was introduced to Duncan, he hoped against all hope that he might be recruited. He hadn't wanted it to happen this way, and if it meant he could have saved Nola and Shianni from their fates, Niko would trade it all and just go to prison. But since he couldn't do that, maybe this really was for the best.

He stopped in to Alarith's shop to see his friend before he left. He'd already heard the news, and this time the shopkeeper let him linger for a little while, chatting and glancing over the meager displays as Niko beat away his inner apprehension.

"So you came to make a nuisance of yourself?" Alarith asked, though not without affection.

Niko smiled, a somewhat forced expression. "Don't I always?"

"Somehow none of this surprises me, you know," Alarith said, grinning slightly. And how could it really? He'd seen much worse in Tevinter, Niko was sure, though the shopkeeper never spoke much about it. But Niko knew what wasn't what he was getting at. He was probably referring to the fact that he got himself into so much trouble in one day.

"You know me," Niko responded, trying for humor but it faded fast. "Can't even have a wedding without some bloodshed."

"That shem got what he deserved," Alarith said. "You did the right thing... I just don't know if it will end here."

"I know," Niko said, worried. An Arl's son was killed by an elf and no arrests were made.  _Someone_ was going to get upset. And there were a lot of vulnerable people in the Alienage to take it out on.

Alarith frowned, staring at the countertop he sat behind as a tense silence stretched between them. "You should go quickly," the older elf told him. He looked up into Niko's eyes. "Just know that we're all going to miss you."

"I'll miss all of you too," Niko nodded to him and turned away. He paused to lay his hand on the doorframe, taking a last glance around the shop before shutting the door behind him.

"Good riddance! You were always a trouble-maker," one woman shouted at him as he walked away from the store. (Yes, even her. He'd miss her too.)

"It's going to be a lot quieter without you around," he heard one man mutter.

The truth of it was that they were both right. Niko could admit it; he was a trouble-maker and always had been. The people in the Alienage knew him well. They watched him grow up, touting knives and sneaking about. They knew he was the sort of elf that could bring the garrison down on them, if not the next purge.

"I always said you were meant for something other than this place," he was told by another woman that he'd known all his life.

He smiled. Some people knew him  _very_  well. The woman's voice was both loving and firm. He could almost imagine his mother saying those words to him. He was really going to miss these people. Funny how all this time he'd wanted to get away and now that he was leaving, part of him wanted to stay.

His father was waiting outside their home for him, trying not to look despaired, but Niko could see it in his eyes. He approached slowly, reluctant to hurry along when he knew this might be the last he saw his father for a long time.

"If this is what the Maker has planned for you then I guess it's for the best," Cyrion noted sadly. "Your mother would have been pleased."

"You're not pleased?" Niko asked gently. All of a sudden he was just a boy looking for approval from the father he loved.

"I just wish there was another way. I dreamed of grandchildren, family gatherings and..." his father sighed. "I'm sorry. This isn't helping." He grasped Niko's arm and looked to him with watery eyes. "Take care, my son. Be safe. And wise. And.. well, you know. We'll all miss you."

Niko nodded, emotion clutching at his throat. "I'm going to check on Shianni," he said, and escaped to the door.

Valora and Nesiara were both in the front room, surprising him a moment before he remembered they'd been sent away with Shianni to take care of her.

"What happens now?" Nesiara asked when they were given a moment alone. "Your father said you're becoming a Grey Warden... You're leaving, aren't you?"

Niko stared at her a moment, surprised at how sad she sounded. She really had been looking forward to marrying him. He felt like he should feel guiltier about her. He'd never wanted the marriage. And though it stemmed from ugly events, Niko was glad he was being recruited instead.

"Sometimes fate is strange," he told her, his tone light.

"It is. You've been called to do something truly noble," she said. "I guess we'll never know what might have been."

 _'Better off that way,'_ Niko thought to himself. She deserved someone who would appreciate their union more than he would have. She really did.

He spotted Shianni near the bunk-beds in the corner of the room, waiting for him.

"You took all the responsibility of what happened," Shianni said, something akin to reverence in her voice as she looked at him. "You're amazing, you know that?" It reminded Niko of when they were children. Soris and Shianni had both always had a bit of hero-worship for him, just as he'd had for his mother.

"I did what I had to," he said.

"You always do," she replied, a distant look in her eyes. "They'll write legends about you someday. When the world was at its darkest, there you came, fire in your eyes, like something out of a storybook. I'll never forget that."

Niko's gaze softened on her, feeling tears prick the corner of his eyes. He ran a hand over the side of his face to hide them. "How are you?"

"I'm alright. As far as the others know, Vaughan just roughed me up. I just don't want them treating me differently, you know?" She sighed. "I love you cousin. Make us proud out there."

"I love you too, Shianni."

"Maker watch over you," she added, sincerity in her wide eyes. She pulled him into a hug and whispered to him. "We'll miss you."

Niko felt both relieved and anxious as he stepped out of his home with a small pack of clothes and what little coin he had. This chapter of his life was coming to an end. It felt right. But at the same time, there was so much that awaited him, so many unknowns.

And so much to leave behind.

His father was still standing outside their home, unsure what to do with himself. Niko embraced him. Cyrion was surprised, but he hugged his son close, fighting tears.

"Get going," Cyrion said then as they parted, his voice rough with reigned-in sorrow. "Before I embarrass us both."

As he headed for the gates, Niko glanced back at the dilapidated wooden houses, garbage, and puddles, all surrounding the proud Vhenadahl in the middle, rising up over everything else.

"Well," Valendrian said somberly as Niko neared the gates. "I guess Duncan got his recruit after all."

Niko looked at him, feeling a little lighter. Duncan  _had_ got what he came for and, well, Niko had gotten what he'd wanted, too. A way out. "There's a whole world out there, you know."

Valendrian noted the same childlike wonder in the lad's voice that he'd held as a small boy. It hurt, knowing he might never see Niko again.

"Indeed. It only saddens me that it has taken this for you to find it. If you'll excuse me, I must attend to our people. Goodbye, young one. Maker keep you."

Duncan and Niko looked to one another. "Are you ready to go?" The Warden asked.

"I am."

"Good. Then we leave for Ostagar immediately."


	3. Join the Grey Wardens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duncan and Niko travel to Ostagar so Niko can join the Order of Grey Wardens in Ferelden.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: T
> 
> No warnings for this chapter. Enjoy, and thanks for reading!

"Garahel was the Grey Warden that slew the last Archdemon four centuries ago," Duncan told him as they made their way through a valley in the Hinterlands on the way to Ostagar. "He united Thedas, and marched his army to Antiva. They made their last stand in the Battle of Ayesleigh. Garahel delivered the final blow against the Archdemon, and died in doing so."

"An elven hero," Niko mused, thinking about the children in the Alienage again. Garahel's legend would have made a much better story for them to venerate than 'Tathas, the Sneaky Elf Bandit', who Niko had made up on the spot.

"Yes," Duncan said. "Grey Wardens come from all walks of life; elves and humans, dwarves and mages, knights and cutpurses."

Since setting out with him, Niko had decided he quite liked this man. When his mother told him that there were good humans, he was certain she meant men like Duncan.

"You were very young when she began training you then?" Duncan asked about her.

"As soon as I could hold a blade." Niko smiled fondly at the memory of their first lesson, utilizing a mismatched pair of dull kitchen knives while father wasn't home.

Duncan looked to him thoughtfully. "It is clear that you were very close to her."

Niko nodded. "My mother was my hero... Everyone called her a trouble-maker," he added with a bit of bite to his words. "But she just wasn't willing to quietly take the abuse like we're expected to."

"Much like yourself," Duncan observed.

"Yeah..." Niko kicked a pebble on the road with the toe of his boot, suddenly thinking about the morning of the wedding.. when his father gifted him with the boots in lieu of Adaia. "She was even arrested once," he told Duncan. "Imprisoned in the Arl's dungeons for assaulting a spoiled noble brat who was harassing the injured beggars in the Alienage." Niko told the story with a mix of old anger and reverence. "She escaped though, with the help of a human woman. After that, she told me that not all humans are bad. And I believe it," Niko insisted. "But... I was there when she was killed. The guards came in because people were getting riled up. She was armed, so they ran her through, no questions asked."

They spoke more about Adaia and Grey Wardens on their journey. Duncan told him about how he had been a thief in Val Royeaux before he was conscripted. Niko admitted to doing a little smuggling work in his time. He had more in common with this human than he ever expected.

When they reached Ostagar, Niko met someone he never imagined he'd stand before.

King Cailan Theirin.

He seemed friendly, and he asked about the Alienage Niko grew up in. A privileged human who was curious about the slums but didn't dare venture near it - he'd ran into that sort before. But Cailan claimed to want to change things. Niko refrained from rolling his eyes and remained respectful. He'd lived with the discrimination all his life while the King had the power to do something about it and didn't. But who knows? Maybe he would after the darkspawn were taken care of, like he said. Niko wasn't getting his hopes up over it though.

Duncan left him on his own soon after that, with instructions to find another Grey Warden named Alistair.

He took his time. This was the first he'd been anywhere outside of Denerim, so Niko explored as much as he could. He got mixed reactions for being an elven recruit; some were surprised, or annoyed, and others didn't seem to think much of it. The only other elves around were all servants though. He'd been mistaken for one by the Quartermaster, who demanded he go fetch some equipment. Niko was satisfied to hear the man take a pleadingly polite tone when he realized the elf he was speaking to was actually a Grey Warden recruit.

If such an encounter made him think being a Grey Warden would be fun though, that notion was thrown out when he saw a darkspawn for the first time.

It was dead; some soldiers were gathered around it, one of them giving a lecture on the creature that was lying in stolen armor and a puddle of blood.

Niko slowed down as he passed to examine it from afar. The mouth hung open, sharp teeth jutting out. Its ashen skin, mottled with its own tainted blood, hung loose from a dented skull. The eyes were vacant, and Niko looked into them as he heard one of the soldiers warning the troops.

"Don't touch the blood. It's black as sin and just as poisonous. If you get tainted by the stuff, you might as well slit your throat."

Niko glanced up to take in the worried faces of the soldiers, who were all staring at the rotting corpse.

It was going to be his duty to face these monsters. As a Grey Warden, it was his only charge. That was what Duncan had told him.

He left the troops and turned back the way he came.

Ostagar was in the far south of Ferelden, bordered by the Korcari Wilds. Niko found himself peering down into the depths of the forest when he wandered to a ledge overlooking the Wilds. A Chantry Sister was there, bending knee on hard stone and praying for the soldiers in the coming battle. Niko got as close to the edge as he dared, wondering what the battle would be like. He'd been in some serious scraps before, but he'd never been part of a war. Actually, he wasn't entirely sure he'd be part of one today either. Duncan never said he'd be joining the fray, though the King said they'd be spilling blood together.

Come to think of it, he hadn't even gone through his Joining ritual yet. One of the other recruits he'd met on the way over, Daveth, seemed to think they'd be going into the Wilds as part of it. Niko looked out into the woods below, but he was unable to see anything but a vast expanse of thick fog and dense trees.

One could only imagine what was lurking in there. He shut his eyes, thinking about the body of the darkspawn he'd seen.

There was a whole army of them in those woods.

\---

"So what's it like being a Grey Warden?" he asked Alistair after introductions with the man.

"Oh it's loads of fun," he answered, somewhat sarcastic. "Plenty of darkspawn for everyone these days."

Niko smirked. He wouldn't mind hanging with Alistair for a while.

They made their way back to Duncan, Alistair answering Niko's questions as best he could along the way. As expected, he wouldn't talk about the Joining ritual.

And as it turned out, they weren't ready to do the ritual yet anyway. First Duncan wanted Alistair to accompany the new recruits into the Wilds to retrieve some old documents and a few vials of Darkspawn blood.

The four of them set out into the misty forest, boots trampling grass made brittle by frost. It was cold here, even in the summer. The air was frigid and held the thick, musky smell of vegetation. The mysterious fog enveloped them, seeping into their armor and leaving them damp and chilled.

Out of boredom and curiosity, Niko and Daveth cooked up an elaborate and impossible idea for what the darkspawn blood might be used for in the ritual. Their notions had Ser Jory grimacing and Alistair shaking his head.

"You'll see soon enough," the young Grey Warden assured them.

Not very far in, they found the sole survivor of a scouting party. He was lying on the ground, blood streaking his face and broken armor. They bandaged him up so he'd have a chance of getting back to the camp, but Niko wasn't sure it would help. The scouting band had been attacked by darkspawn, and that soldier had been covered in a lot of blood - not all of it his own probably. It was poison.

Ser Jory seemed to take this as a sign that they should turn back, though. It was reckless, he said, to potentially put four men up against an army of darkspawn. Niko disagreed, however. Maybe it was dangerous, but Duncan wouldn't send them out here recklessly. He was trying to bolster the Grey Warden numbers, and carelessly sending out the new recruits would be counter-productive. He didn't mention this though, letting Alistair address Ser Jory's concerns instead.

And it made a bit more sense when Alistair explained that all Grey Wardens could sense darkspawn, which was why he needed to accompany them. Niko wasn't sure how that was possible, but like everything else he figured it would be clear once they did the Joining ritual.

Further in, the ground turned mucky underfoot, their boots sucked into muddy quagmire when they ventured too close to the swamp water.

The forest grew eerily quiet, and the four of them moved forward without a word as they listened. Niko's gaze fell to the thrall of dense trees around them, catching movement to his left. He nudged Alistair and pointed into the forest, where the man looked just in time to see the grey of a wolf's head lift toward them. It stared at them through the thicket for a brief moment before sprinting gracefully after the rest of its pack.

A few more yards in, and Niko looked up just in time to see an arrow hurling towards him out of the fog. He knocked it away with his dagger, sending the arrow scattering to the forest floor. A second arrow came after it and drove into the soft ground by Ser Jory's foot.

They carefully moved forward into the mist, weapons drawn. Niko's attention was on Alistair when he saw the warrior bash some creature with his shield. He then stepped back and brought his longsword down on the frightful thing.

It was hard to believe what he was seeing, even after the dead one he observed back at the camp.

These were darkspawn.

Two shorter ones with sickly green skin were loosing arrows up on a hilltop. They shot upward and brought a hail of arrows down on the group. Alistair used his shield as cover. The sharp arrow tips glanced off Ser Jory's metal armor as he swung his heavy blade at one of the human-sized darkspawn. Niko and Daveth evaded the arrows, running for the hill to unleash a quick assault on the archers.

After running them all through, they stood ready, looking for other assailants, but none came.

Niko wiped away the sweaty droplets collecting on his skin from the fog. He looked down the hill to see that Ser Jory was readying his vial to gather some darkspawn blood while Alistair kept watch. So he and Daveth took out theirs and did the same.

"Disgusting..." Daveth muttered, sticking the small mouth of his container to the blood draining from one genlock's sliced neck.

Niko grimaced at the torn, sallow flesh and used his dagger to cut a little deeper into one of the injuries to get a spout of blood flowing.

After a minute or so, Niko looked up from the small glass vial, which was collecting less blood than his gloves were. "Where are you from, Daveth?" he asked as they both knelt by their kills.

"I grew up in a village 'bout a day's trip to the east. Little blot you wouldn't even find on a map. Haven't been back in years. I struck out for the city as soon as I could outrun my pa," he explained as he poured blood into his container. "I've been in Denerim for, what... six years now?" He inclined his head in thought, then turned his attention back to the task. "Never liked it much, but there's more purses there than anywhere else."

"How'd the Grey Wardens find you?" Niko asked, glancing up. He watched Daveth filling his vial, getting just as much on his leather gloves as well. Good to know he wasn't the only one making a mess of it.

"I found them," Daveth said, a note of cockiness in his tone. "I cut Duncan's purse while he was standing in a crowd. He grabs my wrist, but I squirm out and bolt," Daveth gesticulated a bit, nearly spilling the blood from his vial. "The old bugger can run, but the garrison caught me first. I'm a wanted man in Denerim, you see, so they were going to string me up right there."

Niko paused in his task and raised his eyes to Daveth, whose story was starting to strike a chord with him. "What happened?"

"Duncan stopped them," Daveth said, smirking. "Invoked the Right of Conscription. I gave the garrison the finger while I was walking away."

Niko tossed Daveth a mirthful look over his shoulder. "I suppose Duncan has a thing for plucking criminals away from Denerim and pissing off the guardsmen."

"What's that?" Daveth turned his smirk on the elf, sensing a story.

"I grew up in the Denerim Alienage," he started. "Duncan was there looking for recruits the same day that the Arl's son came in and captured some of the women.. including my cousin." He paused, glancing to Daveth, who was human and may not care at all about what happened to the elves in the city, Niko realized. He might even say the Arl's son had the right to do what he did. He continued anyway though, hoping the other recruit wouldn't say anything that would make Niko want to slit his throat. "I broke into his estate and killed him to rescue them. Duncan invoked the Right of Conscription when the garrison showed up to arrest me."

Daveth gave a low whistle while eyeing the contents of his vial. "You stormed an Arl's estate, all his guardsmen inside, and made it through alive?"

"Yes..."

"Glad you're on our side," Daveth said offhand and corked his vial as he stood.

Niko blinked in surprise and slowly rose to his feet to see Alistair and Ser Jory making their way over.

"Well I think that's enough souvenirs," Alistair said, eyeing their filled vials. "Just have to find those documents now."

There were many strange things to be found in the Wilds; small treasures and monsters, tall ruins that jutted out of the swamp water and somehow seemed at home amongst the dark, twisted trees and the murky water. Niko also found a Wilds flower, white with a red center. The Kennel Master back at the camp had said such a flower could heal a tainted Mabari hound he had in his care. When the others weren't looking, Niko plucked the flower and folded it up in parchment to keep in his pack.

Of course, the most interesting thing they came across in the Korcari Wilds were the witches that made their home there.

Morrigan was a striking woman. Completely unthreatened by the four men, she seemed almost amused by them actually. She looked part of the Wilds amidst the fog and the foliage, with her white-haired old mother in their earthy hut.

He had to wonder who they were exactly. Simply apostates, evading the Templars as Alistair said? Or were they more than that? Something more sinister, more powerful, more ancient than any one of them could guess?

Niko didn't even consider posing these questions to Morrigan as she led them out of the Wilds, with the Grey Warden documents safe in Alistair's pack.

But he had to have been staring at her a bit too long as he walked beside her, lost in his thoughts, because she turned to him with sharp eyes all of a sudden.

"Why do you stare at me so?" she snapped.

"I'm sorry," he smiled sheepishly, a bit embarrassed. "This all just seems very surreal." He glanced back to the others, not far behind but not wanting to walk too close to Morrigan. Daveth was giving him an agitated look that Niko read as, 'Get back before she turns you into a toad!'

"Back at your home... I could feel the power there," he said to Morrigan. It had been like faint electricity in his veins, creeping up his arms all the way to his neck. The sensation made him bristle, and he was glad to be away from that source of strange power. "And your mother... She said this Blight is a bigger threat than we anticipate. How does she know?"

Morrigan sighed airily, sounding as if she questioned this herself. "Mother claims to know many things," she said patiently. "I cannot say for certain when she even speaks the truth, let alone where her truth comes from."

Niko remained in silent thought for a bit. He wanted to know more. But before he could speak to Morrigan further, they found themselves near the gate.

"I'm sure you can find your way from here," the witch said slowly as she turned to walk away, a bit put out it seemed.

"Thank you Morrigan," Niko said quickly before she could get too far.

She paused a moment, glancing back at him with scrutiny before moving along.

Once passed the gate, Niko told the others he'd be right back and rushed off before anyone could object. He went straight to the fenced in mabari hounds and handed over the Wilds flower to the grateful Kennel Master. The man mentioned the possibility of imprinting the dog on him after the battle. Niko smiled at the idea as he looked into the pen to see the muzzled dog, the poor thing lying down and silently bearing the pain. He'd always wanted a dog. There were a lot of cats and stray mutts around the Market District in Denerim, but only the nobility walked around with dogs like these. They were marks of honor.

Niko had always just thought they seemed rather smart and would make better company than a lot of people he knew.

He said a goodbye to the Kennel Master and the hound, with plans of checking in later. He had other things that needed doing though.

Most important, the Joining.

\-----

As Duncan ran his blade through Ser Jory, oddly enough, Niko thought about what a good man he believed Duncan was.

He still thought so too. Maybe. All he was really certain of was that he had to drink from that chalice full of poison. If Niko refused, he would be killed too.

As he brought the cup to his lips, he tried not to think about the sight of Daveth's eyes rolling into the back of his head. Or the way he collapsed on the ground in agony before he died. Or the words of the soldier who warned the troops about the darkspawn taint.

Black as sin and just as poisonous...

The vile blood touched his lips, burning when it sloshed down his throat. Pain gripped him tight, claws digging into his brain and constricting around his heart. He doubled over, feeling the poison spread through his body as the floor rushed up to catch him...

...you might as well slit your throat.

He blacked out, and woke to a great beast - a dragon - with jagged skin and large spikes of teeth overlapping its enormous jaws. It called out to him, whispers of songs trickling into his mind as it gave a thunderous roar.

But it was only a dream. A nightmare.

The next thing he saw was Duncan and Alistair staring down at him. The pain was retreating, though he now felt sluggish and burnt, as if his insides had turned to blackened soup. He almost didn't want to get up.

But when he stood, he felt the effects of the poison beginning to recede. Alistair and Duncan were speaking, but the words didn't quite register until Duncan asked him how he felt.

"I still can't believe you killed Ser Jory.." Niko mumbled, glancing to the body of the man who had succumb to fear and paid for it with his life.

Still it had been a stupid move. Drink the poison or die at Duncan's hand. That was the choice. At least if he'd drank the poison he would have had a chance. Now his wife, Helena, was a widow and their unborn child was already fatherless.

Duncan hadn't been given a choice though, and Niko reaffirmed that the older Grey Warden was, indeed, still a good man in his eyes. The way he apologized to Ser Jory and Daveth.. useless though it was. Duncan had been the one to recruit them, to guide them to their deaths. They risked lives to build Grey Warden numbers, but it had to be done. And it had to be a heavy burden to lead and make such tough decisions that effected so many others.

Alistair handed him a pendant on a silver chain and filled with darkspawn blood.

Niko slipped it on and tucked it under his armor as Alistair explained its purpose.

"To remember those who didn't make it."

Staring at Daveth's and Ser Jory's stiffening corpses, Niko was quite sure he would never forget them.

Duncan told him to be at a meeting with King Cailan and Teryn Loghain soon. He was unsure why they would want him there, but he agreed.

He walked slowly from the area, not wanting to be near the dead bodies any longer. First he checked in with the sick mabari and was informed that the medication was at work. Niko gave the hound a lingering look, feeling a new sympathy for the animal. They both knew of darkspawn poison.

Next he stopped by the Quartermaster and made some trades for things he found in the forest before heading to the meeting.

After it was done with, Niko knew what his part in the battle would be. He was told that he and Alistair would be lighting the tower beacon to signal the flanking charge. That meant they would be staying out of the main fight, something Alistair was none too happy about when he was informed.

"Have you ever been in a battle like this before?" Niko asked him as they waited at their stations.

"Not really," Alistair responded. "Have you?"

They were both tense, and the anticipation between them was palpable as they watched soldiers and Grey Wardens rushing to get to their posts.

"No. Nothing this big." Niko looked out to the tower across the bridge. It felt strange to him, in this moment, that he was the only elf here. Because this battle was not being fought over a human problem. He and Duncan spoke a lot about darkspawn on the way to Ostagar, since Niko knew next to nothing about them; only that they were monsters. And if Duncan was right about a 5th Blight nearing, then that was a threat to the entire country, and possibly all of Thedas if they did not break the horde in Ferelden. He felt an unexpected surge of pride for his people, though none of them were here in combat. The fact remained that he was here, and Niko was proud to represent them in this fight.

People were rallying around them, shoving past to get to the ballista on the bridge. They soon fired, along with the archers, at the horde crossing the valley between Ostagar's defenses and the Korcari Wilds.

The battle was nearly in full swing, and as they looked up to see the Tower of Ishal being assaulted by catapults, Alistair decided it was time to cross the bridge.

This was no easy feat. Not half way through, one of the flaming projectiles hit the path ahead of Niko, taking a small chunk of the bridge out and knocking him off his feet. He ended up slamming into the short wall lining the left side of the bridge. A bit disoriented, he hoisted himself up and found Alistair at his side.

"We have to keep moving," Alistair said, urging him on with a hand under the elf's arm to keep him steady.

The stonework bridge rumbled from the attacks. They could see the glow of fires far beneath them where the horde was spilling into Ostagar.

Finally across the gorge, they engaged the darkspawn assaulting the tower. Alistair blocked a longsword with his shield, then drove his own blade through the creature's body.

Niko was showered by a fountain of wretched blood after he stabbed and beheaded one. He worried about the blood on his face for a moment before remembering it could not hurt him anymore. He felt a bit of satisfaction at that, but it did not last.

There were troops running from Ishal's entrance, shouting, "The tower has been taken!"

Niko and Alistair exchanged shocked expressions.

"What do you mean taken?"


	4. Nightmares and Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the Circle of Magi, everything has gone to hell, and Niko comes face-to-face with a very old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A rather short chapter, but it includes the first appearance of Alim Surana.
> 
> Chapter Rating: T

_Flesh and bone crunched in the ogre's teeth as it turned to them. Dropping its human prey from bloody hands, the monster ran at them._

_The mage readied a cold spell, but the charging beast smacked him away with little effort. Alistair, Niko, and the soldier attacked as a unit with their blades, and the ogre fell to Alistair's longsword buried in its black heart._

_No sooner did they light the beacon when darkspawn began to overwhelm the top floor. Niko didn't see what had become of Alistair or the battlefield beyond them. He took an arrow from a hurlock archer and fell..._

Niko suddenly woke, stiff and sore, on his bedroll. The strong scent of sweet herbs and burnt wood overwhelmed his senses as he sat up.

Surprisingly, he'd found sleeping outside to be a pleasant facet of journeying on the road. The night skies above were vast and dotted with stars, not obscured by tall city walls. Well into summer, the nights they spent out in forest clearings were warm and comfortable, offering peace and rest from their travels. He could settle down after helping himself to one of Alistair's stews, just listening to the chirps of crickets and watching the lights of fireflies glow in the dark.

But his sleep wasn't always restful.

"Nightmares again?" Alistair asked mildly, coming over from the snuffed campfire to sit with him.

"Wasn't the Archdemon this time," Niko replied, rubbing his eyes.

"What was it?" Alistair asked, almost hesitantly.

"Ostagar," Niko answered with a sigh, shaking his head. "Darkspawn... Duncan..."

Alistair nodded. "I have that one too," he said softy, a bit sad. He looked to Niko, catching his eye. "You really did like Duncan, didn't you?"

"He saved my life," Niko said roughly, his throat feeling dry. He couldn't remember through his morning stupor, but he thought he'd already told Alistair that much. "He knew my mother before she died."

"Did he?"

"He told me he wanted to recruit her once, but our Elder asked him not to," Niko explained.

"Well," Alistair said, glancing up at the sky where the rising sun painted the clouds pink and yellow. "She must have been quite something to impress Duncan."

"She was," Niko said, following his gaze. "…I really wish I could have known Duncan better though."

Alistair frowned, and the elf noticed him fingering a pendant identical to the one Niko wore, the one from his Joining ritual.

_'To remember those who didn't make it this far,'_  he thought. He was sure it was still a painful subject for Alistair, but they both seemed to benefit from talking about it. He remembered the look on Alistair's face when they were reunited outside the witch's hut, after she'd rescued them from the darkspawn reclaiming the Tower of Ishal. He'd been relieved to see that Niko was alive and had very nearly hugged him. But the man was obviously devastated at the loss of his brothers-in-arms.

Back at Redcliffe castle, he'd found Alistair's mother's amulet in the Arl's study. The former Templar had been so touched when Niko presented it to him, and surprised that the elf even remembered him mentioning that he lost in.

It was good having someone to count as a friend on this journey.

They'd picked up a few others on the way as well. Morrigan joined them only at the insistence of her mother. They met Leliana, a Chantry sister, at a tavern in Lothering, where they also found out Teryn Loghain had marked them as traitors to the throne. How ironic, coming from the man who pulled his troops and left the King to die along with all of the Grey Wardens.

And Leliana - who was surprisingly skilled with a blade - had helped them free a Qunari prisoner called Sten. He openly admitted to the fact that he killed an entire family, children included. Niko was wary of him for that, but they had all been reluctant to leave the guy to rot in a cage. Alistair had said before that Grey Wardens took allies wherever they could find them. And Sten was an experienced warrior, whose talents would go to waste in that cage.

Furthermore, Niko wasn't particularly picky about allies when there were only two Grey Wardens left, and Alistair had evidently left him in charge. Though he had been a Grey Warden 6 months longer than the elf, Alistair had made it clear that he did not want to lead them.

So here Niko was in charge of defeating a Blight. A  _Blight_ , which could cripple entire countries and often lasted for years. And he was supposed to defeat it somehow. So yes, he was grateful for the aid he was getting.

And then of course there was the mabari warhound that had run out of the Wilds in search of Niko. It seemed the dog had imprinted on him for helping to save his life back at camp. Niko had named him Gideon, a fitting name for the canine warrior. He was a precious companion to have, loyal and compassionate in ways Niko had never experienced in a friend before.

"Come on," Alistair said gently, nudging the elf with his elbow and pulling him out of his thoughts. "We've got a Blight to defeat, don't we?"

Niko smiled and started helping everyone pull up camp. "And mages to confer with."

"Yes, can't forget that," Alistair said wryly. Despite his wariness of mages, it had actually been Alistair's idea to seek them out for help with the Arl's son.

With Arl Eamon so close to dying from poison sent on behalf of Teryn Loghain, the Arl's son Conner was wreaking havoc on Redcliffe. Upon finding that it was the work of a demon playing on the young mage, Niko had suddenly felt completely inept. He knew very little of magic and demons, and he was afraid his ignorance would cost the family or the village.

The blood mage who had helped start all the trouble (by poisoning the Arl, not summoning the demon apparently) knew a ritual that would free the poor boy, but it would take a lot of blood. Conner's mother, Isolde, had volunteered to die for her son. The only other option would have been to kill the kid. Of course, Niko, as the acting leader of the group, was expected to make the decision. He felt backed into a corner, forced to choose the lesser of two evils. He'd been so grateful when Alistair chimed in with an alternative plan, Niko could have kissed him. They could get the Circle of Magi to do the ritual with the power of lyrium instead of blood. It meant having to leave the village, the Arlessa, and the Arl's brother, Teagan, with the possessed Conner to seek the mages out. But Niko had jumped on the plan so he would not be responsible for having Conner or Isolde killed.

The trip from Redcliffe to the Circle Tower was about a day's journey. They arrived at Lake Calenhad docks by evening, though they didn't have an easy time getting across.

Niko was appalled at what they stumbled into; the tower hurled into chaos and teeming with dark spirits. That wasn't what had really shocked him though (he'd always heard mages and demons went hand-in-hand after all). It appeared that the Templars had abandoned the mages, their own charges, to the demons. They were overrun, he was told... but to lock them in with monsters? It reminded Niko too much to the city guards who let the nobles do whatever they wanted to the elves in the Alienage, or sometimes took part in the abuse themselves. They abandoned their duties when it became inconvenient for them too.

Alistair seemed to understand the decision, but Niko did not. He wondered for a moment if perhaps he was not cut out for such tough decision-making that came with leadership, because this sacrifice greatly bothered him. He was reminded of Daveth and Ser Jory - dead for the Grey Warden cause. It  _was_  necessary sometimes, wasn't it? Those sacrifices were necessary. Duncan had been prepared to make those decisions after all.

...And so was Loghain. It was because of his decision to make a sacrifice that King Cailan and the Grey Wardens were dead. It was the reason Duncan was dead. And for what cause? They still didn't know.

Niko wasn't going to do that. If the Templars refused to go in for the survivors, then he would do it for them. Unless he knew for sure then, on principal, he could not assume them all to be dead.

And he needed their help. Conner's life depended on it. Isolde and Arl Eamon depended on it. If he sacrificed the mages, then the Arl's family would pay the price as well. There was no other choice than to allow themselves to be locked in so they could find First-Enchanter Irving and any other survivors. The large metal door was barred behind them, and the Knight-Commander's warning rang in his ear.

The door would not be opened again for them unless First-Enchanter Irving said it was safe.

Leliana and Alistair gave him wary glances, which he ignored and moved on through the eerie hallway. Whether he was right for the job or not, they'd chosen him to lead; they were going to have to live with his decisions. And Niko was going to have to stand firm in the choices he made. Not that either of them had objected on this. They all knew that they were going to need the mages, but that didn't mean they weren't worried.

There were bodies of mages and Templars scattered everywhere. Broken furniture was piled against doors and constructed as barricades. Not far in, they found a group of mages holed up behind a magical barrier. Wynne was there, a mage Niko had met at Ostagar. She was wary and rightfully so. There was so much mayhem; people being turned into abominations and, as they later found out, blood magic and mind-control at work. He informed her that Knight-Commander Gregoir called for the Rite of Annulment and would not allow them back through the door unless he heard from First-Enchanter Irving. She decided to team up with them to remove the demon threat from the tower.

They ran into fiery rage demons, black shades, horned desire demons, and twisted abominations. They found bewitched Templars and blood mages that turned on them on sight. There were very few survivors to be found past Wynne's group; a few tranquil mages, a man hiding in a closet, and an elven mage about Niko's age.

They found him hiding in the Chapel, the pews in disarray and statues toppled, but no demons or abominations. The elven mage had created a spherical barrier around himself for protection. He was dressed in purple and pale blue robes, and Niko noticed he had familiar raven hair, a dark complexion, and clear blue eyes.

"Alim, are you alright?" Wynne asked when the young mage dispelled the magical barrier and stood to face them, the fear slowly fading from him.

"Alim?" Niko repeated, shocked.

Alim Surana.

"Niko?" Alim almost didn't believe his eyes. "What are you doing here?" He smiled a little before he realized this was not exactly a joyous reunion. "I haven't seen you in years."

"You know each other?" Alistair interjected.

"I'm from the Alienage in Denerim, like Niko." Alim told him. "Or I was."

"Last time I saw you was when the Templars came for you," Niko remembered sadly. He met Alim's gaze. "Are you hurt at all?"

"No. I got away... Took out one of those shades when this started and I've been hiding in here ever since."

"Have you seen Irving?" Wynne asked. "Or Uldrid?"

"No, I haven't."

"What about Nyall?" Niko added. One of the Tranquil had said a mage named Nyall was looking for a way to stop Uldrid from taking over the tower.

"On my way here, I saw him running to the fourth floor," Alim told them. "He didn't notice me."

Everyone went cold and still as another presence entered the room. It was a shade, followed by another, and then one more, their succession ending in a great rage demon.

Wynne and Alim immediately sent a flurry of cold spells at the flaming demon.

The long arm of a shade swiped at Niko's face. He raised his dagger in time to catch the warped and spiked flesh of its arm. It didn't bleed exactly. When the veiny skin was ripped, a dark, muddied-grey liquid - the same color as the shades themselves - seeped out.

It flipped, quick and wispy as a flame, to evade Niko's blade. It moved back in for him then, its face swathed in rags and one beady white eye trained on him. The demon gave another heavy swipe of its uninjured arm and Niko only stepped back enough to miss the blow, but was caught by the sharp points of its fingers, drawing a bit of blood from his cheek.

He hurried to adapt to the shade's violent swipes and shifty evasions. When he finished it off, it perished in a cloud of black smoke, leaving no body left behind. It was so unnatural, Niko felt like he was fighting ghosts.

He swiftly scanned the battlefield as he'd been learning to do better with every fight. With each cold spell Alim and Wynne threw at it, the demon gave a wrathful howl. It sent a burst of flames towards them, but Wynne was quick to construct a temporary barrier in front of her and the elven mage.

With a snarl, the rage demon turned unexpectedly to Leliana and Alistair, who were preoccupied with a final shade. Niko went after it, shouting for Alistair to watch out.

The warrior turned in time to raise his shield and avoid a bolt of fire.

Niko struck the fiery demon with his longsword, and the blade pulled away hot. It didn't seem to do much, and the molten beast turned on  _him_  then. Niko used both blades to defend against the creature's reach, but the flames licked his face every time the demon stretched closer for him. He felt he was surrounded by a wall of fire when the demon managed to successfully advance on him. The burn of its willowy fingers wrapped around Niko's wrist, and he yelped as he felt the skin blister.

Hastily, he stabbed again at its middle with his free hand. To Niko's surprise, ice began to form around his blade, spreading to the spot where he'd pierced the rage demon. It roared in fury but was helpless as the cold erupted from Niko's weapon to permeate its every vein of magma in its body. It steamed and finally sunk into the floor, not even a pile of ash left behind.

Niko ignored the searing burn on his wrist and looked at his dagger, the metal covered in a film of ice. He turned around to face Alim, who still looked adrenaline-rushed and had bits of frost clinging to his palms. His frantic eyes searched for more enemies, but they were in the clear for now.

"Did you do that?" Niko asked him, gesturing to his blade.

Alim nodded and let the ice dissipate from his hands and, subsequently, the dagger. "I enchanted your weapon."

"Thank you," Niko said. He sheathed his sword and dagger and looked to Alim. "You should get to safety."

"Kinnon and Petra are on the first floor with the children," Wynne said to the young mage. "Go to them. We cleared the way."

"Maybe I can help you," Alim replied earnestly, looking at them with bright blue eyes. "You've seen what I can do."

"No," Niko said firmly. "I'm not risking your life by taking you with us."

"But I-"

"I wouldn't be able to face your mother again if I got you killed." Niko leveled him with a serious gaze.

Alim quieted. "Alright, I'll go to them."

"Stay safe," Niko said, watching him walk away.

Alim paused in the large archway to look back at them. "Maker watch over you all."


	5. Long Lost Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Niko and Alim catch up when the party spends a night at the Tower, then its off to Redcliffe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A rather mage-centric chapter. Please enjoy. :-]
> 
> Chapter Rating: T

They were all quite shaken after escaping from the Fade and then immediately fighting off Uldrid's mind control, along with his small army of abominations and demons.

But they managed to save First-Enchanter Irving, so the metal doors were opened for them. They'd done what they could.

Irving readily agreed to take some mages and lyrium to Redcliffe castle so they could try to save Connor. It was good to catch a break there at least.

Once the corpses were cleaned out of the apprentice dormitories, Niko and his companions were offered beds for the night.

It was difficult to sleep with the stench of blood intermingled with the strange sense of magic that Niko was unused to. Like Flemeth's hut, he could feel a power here too, though less so. He laid awake in his bunk in the middle of the night for an hour before finally getting up to prowl the halls. His faithful war dog, Gideon, immediately stirred from his place on the floor and followed the elf.

He nodded to a couple of Templars, who were continuing their work, currently unstacking some broken furniture that barricaded a door.

Niko thought about the leather-bound tome he had hidden in his pack in the dormitory. He hadn't actually expected to find Flemeth's Grimoire in the Tower when Morrigan requested that he keep an eye out for it. But he'd found it in a desk while storming the Tower rooms. He just hoped no one decided to search his bag and ask him about the theft.

When he got to the classrooms, he decided to head back. The room was washed in so much magic, and there were still untouched corpses of abominations lying about. On his way back into the dormitories though, he nearly collided with Alim, who was on his way out.

"Sorry," they both stammered.

They looked at each other a moment and Niko moved back to allow Alim room to step out into the hall.

"Can't sleep either?" Niko asked.

"No," Alim said. He spotted the Templars down the hall, who gave him a wary look. He decided not to take a walk down that way then. Everyone was spooked and it would be safer for a young mage not to go wandering about at night and making the Templars suspicious.

Alim sighed and slid to the floor, sitting back against a spot on the wall that wasn't stained with blood. He glanced up at Niko with tired eyes. "How's your wrist?"

"Wynne healed it," he answered. Indeed, the burn left only a faint mark now.

He came over and sat next to Alim, Gideon following to lie down and sleep by his master's side. "Thanks again for saving me from that rage demon," Niko said quietly.

Alim shook his head with a smile. "I should be the one thanking you. The Templars would have left us to die in here… but you and your friends didn't."

"I'm glad they didn't use the Right of Tranquility," Niko said and frowned. "I can't believe they even have such a thing."

"The chantry holds much power over us," Alim said, carefully neutral.

Niko looked to him. "I must admit, I know too little about magic. I had no idea what it's like for mages and I rarely ever thought on it. It really isn't fair."

Alim smiled a little. "I'm glad to be here though," he admitted. "I do miss my mother, of course, and the Circle is not perfect. But I'm not treated very differently for being an elf; it's not like in the Alienage. And I'm given a good education, too."

"There are quite a lot of books here," Niko commented. He'd never seen so many in one place actually.

"So," Alim turned to him with eyes full of wonder. "How did you end up as a Grey Warden anyway? I never would have imagined… I mean you were always the adventurous one, but just look at you now."

Niko smiled. "It's the not the happiest story. I was actually supposed to get married over the summer."

"Oh?"

"Yes, Soris and I - you remember my cousin Soris? - Well we were both supposed to get married to some girls from Highever. I really didn't want to. And I didn't get to either. The Arl's son and his friends came in and took the bridal party. Just took them, like they were objects," Niko sneered. He was careful to leave Shianni's name out of it, though he couldn't help thinking of her. "Soris and I went after the bastards and killed them. We brought the women back… Most of them anyway."

"Not everyone made it?" Alim interjected.

"No," Niko answered. "Nola was killed."

Alim searched his memory for a moment, but didn't say anything. He might not have ever known her.

Niko went on. "I was going to be arrested. But we had a visitor that day; a Grey Warden looking for recruits. Duncan. He was friends with Valendrian." Niko sighed. "And he stepped in for me. Conscripted me. And the guards didn't have any authority to go against him on it either."

"…Lucky," Alim commented.

"I was," Niko agreed. "…Duncan was a good man."

The silence settled upon them with the weight of all the lives already lost… And the journey had only really just begun.

When the mage spoke again, he did so quietly, as if hesitant to break the stillness. "With this Blight, everyone is going to feel the loss of the Wardens that died at Ostagar." He then raised an eyebrow at Niko. "Why was he looking for recruits in the Alienage though?"

"Duncan knew my mother." Niko shrugged. "I guess he heard that she passed her training on to me."

"I see…" Alim looked at Niko. "You know, my mother wrote to me when Adaia was killed. I'm sorry about what happened to her."

"Thank you," Niko said, petting his mabari absently. "Your mother actually used to show me the letters you sent home. Do you still write to her?"

"Oh yes." Alim smiled more. "I haven't been able to send any out since all this trouble began, but yes. And she still writes back. That's more than a lot of mages can say about their families."

"That's… sad." Niko frowned.

"Mages carry a stigma in our society. You know this," Alim said gently.

"I do," Niko replied. "And for what it's worth, I'm sorry I never considered what that meant before. I wish mages weren't treated that way."

Alim was looking at him carefully, waiting until Niko made eye contact before speaking what was on his mind. "Now that you're in a position of influence, you may find yourself able to make a difference for us someday."

"If only," Niko said, doubtfully, withdrawing his gaze again. "I can't imagine how I could. Especially when Teryn Loghain has the country believing Grey Wardens betrayed the King."

"Not everyone will follow him without question," Alim said, smiling. "Many of us believe in you. Remember that."

Niko smiled back, thinking how Alim looked so much like Ms. Surana. The two sat in companionable silence for a minute before he spoke again.

"So what will you do now that the Circle Tower is back under control?"

"We'll clean up this mess," Alim said. "Well… I don't know if I will be here."

"Why?" Niko asked.

Alim bit his lower lip and looked at the floor. "I got into a bit of trouble before all this happened. I'm… under investigation."

"What?" Niko blinked rapidly in surprise. "Why? What happened?"

"The short version is that they were going to force my friend to become Tranquil, and caught me when I tried to help him escape." Alim shook his head, frowning. "But Jowan turned out to be a blood mage. He injured some Templars so he could get away. I don't know where he is now. But obviously investigating me became less important after the abominations and demons started attacking."

"Jowan?" Niko's eyes narrowed in thought. "I know where he is."

"You do?" Alim turned to him, eyes wide. "Where?"

"Redcliffe. He uh… He poisoned the Arl."

"He what?" Alim hissed.

"The Arlessa hired him to tutor her son in secret when she noticed he had magical talent," Niko explained. "But Jowan was instructed by Teryn Loghain to poison the Arl. Maybe Jowan actually thought he was doing a service to the country. The Teryn is a respected man," Niko admitted with some reluctance. "But Jowan got locked in the dungeon for it, of course. And now the Arl's son is possessed and terrorizing everyone. You know about that part."

Alim nodded. He had been there when the situation was explained to Irving.

"But, as far as I know," Niko continued. "Jowan is doing what he can to help them while we're here. I don't know what they are going to do with him."

Alim was silent while he digested that information. Then he sighed heavily. "Part of me wishes I would be allowed to go to Redcliffe for the ritual so I could see him."

"Maybe you can," Niko said.

"They wouldn't allow it. Not while I'm under investigation."

"I can make a request at least," Niko offered. "If you really want to go."

Alim looked at him. "You'd do that?"

"Anything for an old friend," Niko assured, earning another smile from Alim.

"Thank you," the young mage said.

"Of course." Niko stood up, feeling the exhaustion deep in his bones but he was careful not to let it show. "I should get some sleep now. We head out early."

"I should too," Alim agreed. "Hopefully I'll be going with you."

\---

Upon leaving the Circle Tower, they were joined by Wynne, permanently it seemed. She wanted to aid the Grey Wardens against the Blight more directly. Niko was glad to have her, surprised though he was. Despite her age, she proved very capable of handling herself in battle, and was invaluable as a healer.

The party was also accompanied by a wagon carrying a small group of mages and a supply of lyrium, monitored by a few Templar escorts that were assigned to them. It was collected in crates and hidden under a tarp so as not to attract the attention of bandits.

Niko glanced back at the wagon where Alim was sitting, and smiled when the mage waved happily to him. Knight-Commander Gregoir and First-Enchanter Irving did, indeed, allow Alim to go to Redcliffe with them, though it took some persuading from Niko.

They were about halfway to Redcliffe village when they came upon another wagon traveling in the opposite direction.

"Careful that way," the merchant, a dwarf with a shaved head and a thick black beard, warned them. "There's darkspawn ahead. Lothering was overrun just a few days ago."

"Lothering you said?" Niko asked. He heard Leliana's sharp gasp behind him.

"Aye," the dwarf nodded. "There's not a soul left. Just tainted beasts."

"Thank you for telling us," Niko said.

Leliana was quiet through the rest of the trip. Niko eventually fell toward the back of the travelling party where Morrigan was lingering behind everyone else. Niko still had her mother's grimoire in his pack, but he didn't dare give it to Morrigan until the Templar's were gone. Since they all left Lake Calenhad, Morrigan seemed to have a permanent scowl on her face directed solely at the Templar warriors. Niko wasn't surprised; he'd overheard enough conversations between her and Alistair to know how she felt about the mage-hunting Templars. She was an apostate after all, even if she was not a typical one.

"Have you ever had trouble with the Chantry?" he asked her.

"My mother has been hunted from time to time, yes. By Templar fools like Alistair, which should tell you how successful they generally were," she responded. Niko wasn't sure if it was an unwelcome question, but he had a hard time anticipating Morrigan's responses to any given situation. But she went on. "Flemeth made a bit of a game of it, in fact. The Templars would come again, and she would look at me and smile and say that the fun was to begin once more."

"Fun?"

"I found the game fun," she affirmed. "I was too young to understand the truth behind what was happening. Flemeth would warn them. Once. Twas a warning they inevitably failed to heed. And then the true game began. Often Flemeth would use me as bait." Morrigan seemed to find that part amusing, as she actually giggled a bit. Niko wasn't sure he'd ever heard her do that before. But he continued to listen, keeping his incredulity to himself as she recalled the hunt with peculiar delight. "A little girl to scream and run and lure the Templars deeper into the Wilds unto their doom…"

Niko winced. "Your mother used you as bait…?"

"Twas a game and I a young girl," she said as if it were obvious. "If I didn't get to play, I would have been very upset. Thankfully the Wilds is a vast place. Once they found us, Flemeth would simply move us elsewhere, and we would be lost within the forest once again." She paused and stared on ahead for a moment before she continued. "I did not understand the danger we faced until I was much older. I had never heard of apostates or maleficarum."

"What do you think of all that now? Still fun?" Niko asked, vaguely wondering if he was overstepping his question limit for today and if he'd face repercussions from the witch. Though she seemed to prefer tormenting Alistair over anyone else.

"I think that my mother made it fun so that a child did not learn to fear," she replied, thoughtful and reminiscent. "And I think that it was necessary." She side-glanced at Niko, and he could feel her assessing his reaction to this. "There are no trials for apostates, no prisons, no mercy. There are only absolutes. So only survival matters. If the Wilds have taught me anything, 'tis this: first, you must survive. Do you disagree?"

Niko shrugged and looked away from her judging eyes to watch the road ahead, gaze fixed on the turn of the wagon's wheels as they trampled patches of dry grass and etched tracks into the ground. "I don't know," he confessed. "Are there worse things than death?" He paused to consider his own question and finally looked up at her, her unusual yellow eyes narrowed in scrutiny. "I think there could be."

"Oh?" She sounded a bit surprised, and perhaps annoyed, by his response and looked ahead once more. "I would ask what exactly, but I'm certain that would be a lengthy conversation, and suddenly I grow very weary."

Niko smirked and shook his head.

Suddenly though, he stopped in his tracks. There was a thrumming in his veins, creeping lightly under his skin, starting in his feet and the tips of his fingers until it pulsed straight to his center. The sensation was accompanied by the faintest of whispers in his mind, set to the rhythm of his beating heart as it pumped out poisoned blood.

He still wasn't used to this feeling he got when sensing darkspawn, but Niko knew it meant he needed to warn the others. When he looked ahead, Alistair was staring back at him. He'd felt it too of course and was already withdrawing his longsword. "Get ready. Darkspawn coming," he warned the party.

The vile whispers grew louder in Niko's left ear and he recoiled from it. Inhaling sharply through clenched teeth, he practically hissed. "Watch our left flank!"

Emerging through the left side, out of the trees, hurlocks in spiked armor and wielding blood-caked maces flooded their path. Wynne and the other mages in company froze half of them on the spot, icicles shooting up from the earth, engulfing the sickening flesh of the monsters. Along with Sten and Alistair, the Templars ran them through with their blades, making quick work of them. Leliana had gotten some distance between herself and the corrupted creatures, firing off arrows to catch any darkspawn on the fringe trying to flank the battle while the warriors held the front line. Niko and Morrigan did the same, working in tandem with each other out of sight from the Templars, the witch using her more discreet spells for now. After all, once this battle was finished, they didn't want the Templars crying "apostate!"

For the Templars though, this was the first they'd ever laid eyes on darkspawn, so they were quite thoroughly occupied. Nothing ever prepared someone to face such monstrous creatures for the first time.

Despite the alarming number of darkspawn on the road, they still managed to make it to Redcliffe after a day's worth of travel.

They were ushered in quietly. Everyone in the castle was more visibly shaken than when they'd left, and Niko didn't want to know exactly what the demon in Conner had done to warrant that. When they got there, the possessed boy was in his father's room just as when they had left.

Niko wished he could go in after the demon himself. Just thinking about how it had terrorized the village… how it admitted to having the ears cut off of the castle's elven servants and fed to dogs… Niko really wanted to gut this one, even though it meant going beyond the Veil again. None of them had liked that. But a mage had to go in, so he put his trust in Morrigan and sent her.

As he expected, she had little trouble conquering the desire demon in the Fade. Conner was free, and their new priority was getting the Arl back on his feet.

Jowan was to stay in Redcliffe to await the Arl's sentence, should he be cured. Niko hadn't seen what went on between Jowan and Alim, but he did notice Alim clasping the other mage's shoulder and exchanging a few hushed words before he was taken to the dungeon again.

"As promised, Grey Warden," Irving told him, "you will have our support against the Blight when the time comes."

"Thank you, First-Enchanter," Niko bowed. He watched them leave and was then pulled aside by Alim.

"Look for me on the battle-field," the elven mage winked.

Niko smiled and hugged him. "Just try not to get into any more trouble."

Conner was safe now. He was in his room, probably because everywhere he went, there were people giving him wary glances, their horror just barely veiled when they looked at him. The boy didn't remember everything, but he did seem to know that he was rescued. He'd said a quiet, but sincere thank you to Niko and Morrigan before skulking away.

Niko returned to Bann Teagan and Isolde to discuss further plans. By the time their meeting was finished, night had fallen. So Niko and his companions were shown to the guest quarters to spend the night in Redcliffe castle.


	6. The Antivan Crow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While on a search into the sacred ashes of the prophet, Andraste, the party is ambushed by a professional assassin!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zevran is finally here! I am aware some of the dialogue here is only available when you are playing a female Warden, but I took some creative liberties.
> 
> Chapter Rating: T
> 
> No chapter warnings.

They set out for Denerim at the crack of dawn, knowing it would take several days of travel until they reached the city.

Lady Isolde had fervent belief in the healing power of Andraste's sacred ashes, so much so that she helped fund the research of a scholar named Brother Genitivi. Niko and his companions were tasked by the Arlessa and Bann Teagan to join the search for the ashes, starting with checking the man's home in Denerim to see if he found anything yet.

Niko wasn't sure what to think of all this. As long as Teryn Loghain insisted on stoking political flames instead of taking on the Blight, they would need Arl Eamon if they were going to get anywhere. It was unlikely that they could gather all the allies they needed with half the country believing the Grey Wardens were traitors. But it seemed the Arl's only chance laid in them finding a miracle cure. The odds of them discovering the ashes of a long-dead prophet were slimmer than two Grey Wardens defeating a Blight on their own. Beyond that, even if they managed to find the ashes, there was no reason to believe they could heal anyone. Niko did not possess that amount of faith, at least.

Sure, he believed in the Maker and His Holy Bride, much as any other Ferelden usually did… Well, maybe a bit less actively so. He wasn't one to attend sermons or say a nightly prayer. He believed in the Maker like he believed in exotic lands and high dragons; he knew they existed, somewhere, and maybe they were significant at some point in time to some people, but he didn't see what they had to do with him personally. He'd never been to any foreign countries, and he'd never seen a dragon soaring through the skies, just like he'd never had the Maker turn His gaze upon him or his family.

Leliana pointed out that the Maker showed his mercy to Niko the day Duncan recruited him, saving him from imprisonment and possible death. He wasn't sure he agreed with her on that, but he did admire her beliefs.

Despite the fact that he was eager to check on the Alienage and his family, Niko had some concerns about returning to his home; not the least of which was Loghain's presence and the likelihood that his lies about the Grey Wardens had wholly permeated the city by now. There was also the fact that the Arlessa had already sent many Knights out in desperation of finding information on the holy ashes. Surely some of them had gone to Brother Genitivi's house. So why had none of them reported back with not so much as a confirmation on whether the scholar was even in Denerim?

It made him wary, and his companions agreed that they should be especially cautious around the area. So when they neared Denerim, they set up their camp far from the city itself.

Alistair, Niko, and Leliana split from camp the next morning to head through the sparse woods and scout the area. They were walking through a gully, sticking to low land marked with boulders and fallen trees while Leliana was regaling them, in her poetic manner, with what she knew of Denerim.

She was interrupted by an anxious peasant woman running towards them.

"Oh thank the maker," the woman said with considerable relief. "We need help! They attacked the wagon! Please help us!" She turned back around without giving them a moment to reply. "Follow me! I'll take you to them!"

They watched her run off and began to follow cautiously, their instincts telling them they were headed for trouble. There were other tells, too. Niko couldn't help but notice the land's natural formations putting them at a severe disadvantage in terms of battle. They were heading through a road that cut between two hills, littered with boulders on both sides, providing coverage and high ground for anyone wanting to stick them with an arrow. But there was indeed a broken down wagon up ahead that their dubious guide was running towards.

Leliana nudged Niko and he glanced to her to see her eyeing a claw trap to their right. It was possible that it had been left there by a hunter, but this whole situation just didn't feel right.

They were still a few yards back from the wagon when someone else appeared from behind it; a rather striking elf with bronzed-skin and blond, braided hair. He was elaborately armed and armored. The woman stood beside him, both of them sporting deadly looks of self-assurance. The elf made a signal with his gloved hand, heralding more assailants from behind the wagon and the great stones surrounding them above.

Niko jumped out of the way, narrowly avoiding a tree falling right on top of him. When he rose to his feet again, the elven assailant had withdrawn his blades, and his female cohort had lightning crackling in the palms of her hands.

"The Grey Wardens die here!"

All traces of smugness gone, the elf was nothing but deadly professional now.

Leliana was quick-witted, sending a well-placed arrow right through the mage woman's eye, but not before she managed to hit Niko with a bolt of electricity first.

He grit his teeth, fingers twitching as he rode the wave of voltage that passed through his body. Alistair quickly raised his shield to cover them both from the torrent of arrows fired down from the archers. Leliana was carefully making her way to the right hillside, disarming traps. Niko, still clenching his teeth against the pain, met Alistair's eye and motioned for him to follow her. The warrior frowned, but obeyed; with her task, Leliana would need the cover more.

Now without Alistair's shield for protection, Niko dove behind the fallen tree and heard three more arrows pierce the bark on the other side.

Though the archers were the least of his problem now as the elven assassin was upon him, quick as the lightening that had finally finished coursing through Niko's body.

He was a marvel, all stealth and precision as he pounced on the elven Warden with sword and dagger.

Niko raised his own blades to block him, sparks flying as metal hit metal. Niko pushed up off the ground with all the strength in his legs, sending the assassin back - not far, but at least Niko was on his feet again. He struggled, but managed to meet the assassin hit for hit; blocking, dodging, and countering each other's every move. It was a fatal dance, performed under a hail of arrows and the rallying cry of their allies.

All four blades crossed as they met, now face-to-face. Amber eyes locked on Niko's green ones. "My, you have excellent form, Grey Warden," the elf complimented in a pretty foreign accent, giving a wink.

Flirting. It was meant to throw him off, but Niko wasn't so bashful or easily diverted.

He raised his boot to give the other elf a brutal kick to the gut, but the quick assassin stepped back from the move and swung his longsword hard at Niko's own extended blade. The force of it spun him around, and he recovered just in time to avoid taking a dagger in the back.

The assassin chuckled derisively, careful with his footing as he circled Niko, who moved with him to keep the other elf away from his flank. In his peripheral, Niko couldn't see any more archers, but neither did he see his teammates. Unfortunately, he couldn't afford to take his eyes off the assassin any more.

"Not one for flattery I see," the blond elf noted, earning a glare from his opponent.

"Not one for ambushes," Niko corrected, raising his blades for a forceful strike.

The assassin easily deflected the move and he laughed, genuinely amused this time. "Too bad for you," he said, laughing some more as he engaged the Warden with his blades again.

The dance continued, hard strikes and swift parries. Niko was unable to get the upper hand, constantly on the defensive. But he was not taken down. Niko was a good fighter, especially when he was not blinded with rage. He knew how to block and dodge, knew not to throw himself at his opponent. He was focused now, anticipating the assassin's moves and recovering quickly when he did not. The foreign elf did not grow frustrated or tired, however. He tried new moves, testing the Grey Warden's ability and reflexes. He was absorbed in the battle, fascinated by their dance.

They were both gripped in the moment; the step and strike, the clang of metal, sweat and adrenaline. Neither of them noticed a third man joining the fray. Didn't notice at all until Alistair's shield bashed into the assassin and ran him into the ground.

Niko blinked in surprise and looked around the battlefield to see their enemies felled and Leliana shouldering her bow as she walked towards them.

"Thanks, Alistair," he told his friend and rescuer. "Any rope in your pack?"

"…Sure." Alistair said, eyes narrowing in question as he retrieved some for him.

"I want to question him," Niko explained and began tying the rope tight around their assailant's limbs.

"He was obviously looking for the two of you specifically," Leliana noted, sounding serious as she picked up the elf's weapons.

Alistair nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. "Looking for Grey Wardens."

"Exactly," Niko mumbled, stepping back from the unconscious elf now that he was secured with rope.

Their captive woke in a few moments, lying in the grass, groaning and then mumbling in disorientation. He didn't open his eyes until after his wrists tugged against the restraints and he realized he was tied up good. "Oh... Ugh." He winced, looking at the three standing above him. "I rather thought I would wake up dead. Or not wake up at all, as the case may be. But, I see you haven't killed me yet."

"I have some questions," Niko told him flatly, crossing his arms.

"Ah, so I am to be interrogated," the elf surmised. "Let me save you some time," he offered cordially. "My name is Zevran; Zev to my friends. I am a member of the Antivan Crows, brought here for the sole purpose of slaying any surviving Grey Wardens... which I have failed at, sadly."

"What are the Antivan Crows?" Niko asked, curious.

"I can tell you that," Leliana chimed in, sounding a bit enthusiastic at the opportunity to pass on more of her worldly wisdom. "They are an order of assassins out of Antiva, very powerful and renowned for always getting the job done, so to speak."

Niko looked to Zevran, cocking his head at the assassin and raising an eyebrow.

Zevran met his gaze with mirthful eyes, silently acknowledging the irony in her words while trying to give a shrug, despite his bindings.

"Someone went to great expense to hire this man," Leliana added.

"Quite right," Zevran grinned. "I'm surprised you haven't heard much of the Crows out here. Back where I come from, we are rather infamous."

"Who hired you to kill us?" Niko asked, though he had a good guess.

"A rather taciturn fellow in the capital. Loghain, I think his name was? …Yes, that's it."

He almost sounded bored, and Niko figured maybe the 'who' and the 'why' were mostly unimportant details to the Crows so long as they were paid.

Niko exchanged a glance with Alistair, who looked unsurprised, but clearly bothered at the mention of the Teryn.

"So you're not loyal to Loghain?" Niko asked the Antivan Crow.

"I have no idea what his issues are with you. The usual, I imagine. You threaten his power, yes?"

"Apparently," Niko scowled. There was no other reason really. Loghain knew they didn't actually betray the King. But they knew that he did and no way did they intend to let it go.

"I was contracted to perform a service," Zevran told them. "Beyond that, no, I'm not loyal to him."

"And now that you've failed that service?"

"Well, that's between Loghain and the Crows. And between the Crows and myself."

Niko's brow furrowed, a little perplexed as to why this interrogation was going so well. "Why are you telling me all this?"

"Why not?" Zevran gave a light chuckle. "I wasn't paid for silence. Not that I offered it for sale, precisely."

"Aren't you at least loyal to your employers?" Niko asked.

"Loyalty is an interesting concept." Zevran mused, looking like he was getting at something. "If you wish, and you're done interrogating me, we can discuss it further."

"I'm listening. Make it quick."

"Well, here's the thing: I failed to kill you, so my life is forfeit. That's how it works. If you don't kill me, the Crows will. The thing is, I like living." He met Niko's gaze, and the elven Warden was surprised by the depths of sincerity he saw in those gold-flecked eyes. "And you obviously are the sort to give the Crows pause. So let me serve you, instead."

"And what's to stop you from finishing the job later?" Niko challenged.

"To be completely honest, I was never given much of a choice regarding joining the Crows," Zevran confessed. "They bought me on the slave market when I was a child. By now, I think I've paid my worth back to them, plus tenfold."

Niko's stance faltered slightly, his arms dropping to his sides.

'The slave market… of course. Buy an elf kid and teach him some tricks to earn coin for you.' Niko's jaw clenched and he glanced away. He wasn't dropping pity on Zevran, no. No one liked to be pitied. Besides, Zevran was probably lucky he ended up with the Antivan Crows instead of a blood thrall for a Tevinter magister. Slavery was all the rage in the Imperium. It's why people like his friend Alarith had to flee to other countries and lose their entire family in a mad dash for freedom… It all angered him the same though.

"The only way out, however, is to sign up with someone they can't touch," Zevran went on, smirking at the elven Warden and pulling him out of his thoughts. "Even if I did kill you now, they might just kill me on principle for failing the first time. Honestly, I'd rather take my chances with you."

Niko stared at him a moment, weighing the decision. It would be stupid to recruit someone that tried to kill him, wouldn't it? But killing the man now… it just didn't seem right to him. 'Am I really going to do this?' he wondered, exasperated at his own indecision.

Zevran inclined his head, waiting for a response. In the meantime, he tried to sweeten his offer. "I can fight… pick locks… I could also warn you should the Antivan Crows attempt something more... sophisticated now that my attempts have failed." Seeing that Niko's expression remained carefully neutral, he went on. "I could also stand around and look pretty if you prefer." He was smirking a little, his eyes never leaving Niko's. "Warm your bed?"

That did it.

A snort of laughter exposed Niko's amusement, as did the small smile that fought against his pursed lips. It earned a wicked grin from Zevran.

"Really, I can go all night," he prodded, voice dropping to a husky and seductive level as he studied Niko. He knew he'd won.

"Okay," the elven Warden agreed, bringing a hand up to disguise his smile. "I accept your offer."

"What?" Alistair's voice pitched in surprise. "You're taking the assassin with us now? Does that really seem like a good idea?"

"We could really use him, Alistair," Niko told the warrior, using his Voice of Reason. The fact remained that they barely had anyone on their side to fight the darkspawn and Loghain's supporters, and they needed all the help they could get.

"Hn. Alright, alright. I see your point," he conceded. "Still, if there was a sign that we were desperate, I think it just knocked on the door and said hello."

"Welcome Zevran," Leliana said warmly as Niko knelt down to cut him loose. "Having an Antivan Crow join us sounds like a fine plan."

"Oh?" Zevran's eyes lit up, smirking lasciviously. "You are another companion-to-be then? I wasn't aware such loveliness existed amongst adventurers, surely."

Leliana frowned. "…Or maybe not."

Niko shook his head and removed the last of the rope securing Zevran. He then offered the other elf a hand-up, which he took.

"I hereby pledge my oath of loyalty to you, until such a time as you choose to release me from it," Zevran said, quite formally, and turned a serious gaze on the other elf. Niko's eyebrows quirked slightly, surprised and interested in his decorum. "I am your man, without reservation. This, I swear."

He bowed to Niko.

"Well," Niko paused, unsure how to respond to that. "…Good." He turned slightly to glance back at his companions. "This is Alistair and Leliana. I'm Niko," he informed their new teammate as his weaponry was returned to him. "There are more of us back at our campsite." He then looked to Leliana and Alistair and gestured to the array of bodies and equipment to loot from the ambush site. "Let's take what we can from here and bring it back to camp. Then we go to Denerim."

Zevran's eyes slowly narrowed in scrutiny. "You are aware there is a bounty on the head of every Grey Warden in Ferelden and that your Loghain is currently seated in the castle as we speak, yes?"

Niko shrugged. "Yes."

"Well what are we waiting for then?" Zevran laughed. "This should be very interesting."


	7. Nothing Goes as Planned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Grey Wardens have a bit of an off day when they finally reach the city of Denerim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: T

Zevran joined them on the path to Denerim the next day. He already filled them in as much as he could on how he was hired. He didn't know how much the Crows were paid, and he was not supposed to meet with Loghain again, but he was able to tell them that Arl Rendon Howe was actually the mastermind behind hiring the Crows in the first place.

In turn, they had explained what they were up to; gathering allies, searching for the Urn of Andraste's sacred ashes, and making Loghain answer for his crimes. All in good time, anyway.

For Niko, it felt good to be back in Denerim. It felt good to be in Denerim knowing he could leave when he wanted to. He wasn't trapped behind the walls anymore.

Though he wouldn't be able to leave if he was captured, a fact he was reminded of quite quickly. Almost as soon as they entered the city, Niko was recognized by a man who had been at Ostagar, a man who believed the lies that were fed to him about the Grey Wardens.

But if there was one thing Niko had mastered during his childhood running around the city, it was lying his way out of trouble. It worked this time, but he and Alistair tried to keep their heads down after that.

The City Square was bustling when they entered. An area had been cleared where a few sweaty laborers were building a wooden stage in the middle of the Square. It was then that Niko remembered All Soul's Day was approaching. On that night, the Chantry would conduct a tragic play of Andraste's torture and death, as they did every year. Niko remembered watching the play as a child on the fringes of the crowd. He would sit atop his father's shoulders so he could see the dazzling fire where Andraste was put to the stake, the great Sword of Mercy plunging into her heart. The boom of the narrator's voice carrying over the hushed crowds, warning of man's second sin, always enthralled Niko, though he didn't understand its meaning. The macabre theme did little more than frighten and thrill him, and he and his cousins would try to reenact the performance together when they went home.

As he got a bit older, he would dart through the standing audience, largely unnoticed as he snuck to the front of the stage… The act was decidedly less exhilarating up close. It was too easy to see that Andraste, draped in scorched white robes amidst the flames, was a dummy angled away from the audience.

Not that he really wanted someone burned at the stake and stabbed for the sake of authenticity, but the wonder of the performance was lost on him after that.

They decided to hold off on going to Brother Genetivi's house at first. Instead, they headed to the Market District to make some trades for supplies.

While Niko was looking over a collection of daggers, he noticed his fellow Grey Warden looking a bit restless as he eyed a row of shabby houses nearby. Niko strayed from the others; Leliana was deep in a conversation about lacy shoes with a friendly Orlesian woman in a silken gown. Zevran stayed behind, apparently content to linger with the pretty girls.

"You okay?" Niko quietly asked his friend.

"That's… that's my sister's house," Alistair told him, still staring. "I'm almost sure of it."

Niko followed his gaze to one of the ramshackle homes, looking like half the wooden boards had been slapped on haphazardly. It was only a small step up from the hovels and apartments in the Alienage.

"I'll be right back," Niko told him and walked back to Leliana. He gave her a few silvers, instructing her and Zevran to buy some food they could bring back to camp while he and Alistair took care of other business. That would keep them busy long enough. He hadn't forgotten the promise he made to Alistair days ago; that when they got to Denerim they would seek out this older sister he'd never met.

"This is… yes, this is the right address," Alistair said, standing in front of Goldanna's house when Niko returned to him. "She could be inside. Could we… go and see her?" he asked meekly.

"Wouldn't you rather meet her on your own?" Niko asked, unsure if his company would make the situation more awkward for the siblings.

"Do I seem a little nervous? I am," Alistair confessed, beginning to sweat as the rest of his words came out in an anxious rush. "I really don't know what to expect. I'd like you to be there with me, if you're willing. Or we could… leave, I suppose. We really don't have time to pay a visit, do we? Maybe we should go."

Niko smiled and shook his head. "Come on. Let's see if she's home."

Alistair was practically shaking with nervous energy as they approached the front door, babbling on about how strange it was.

Niko knocked for him when Alistair was too nervous to do it. A fair-skinned, slender brunette woman in a plain, cream and yellow dress opened the door. Niko wasn't sure that she resembled Alistair at all, but then he didn't look much like some of his own closest family members either. "You have linens to wash? I charge three bits on the bundle. You won't find better," the woman said as she stepped back to bring them inside. "And don't trust what that Natalia woman tells you, either. She's foreign and she'll rob you blind."

They both stood there gawking for a moment while she turned to them, hands settled impatiently on her hips, until Niko nudged his nervous friend.

"I-I'm not here to have any wash done," he stammered. "My name's Alistair. I'm… well, this may sound sort of strange, but are you Goldanna? If so, I suppose I'm your brother," he blurted out.

"My what? I am Goldanna, yes… How do you know my name?" She glared at the both of them. "What kind of tomfoolery are you folk up to?"

"Look, our mother… she worked as a servant in Redcliffe Castle a long time ago before she died. Do you know about that? She-"

"You! I knew it!" She screeched, suddenly very angry and indignant. Two children, a boy and girl, poked their heads out of a back room to see what was going on. But they quickly retreated upon witnessing their mother's ire. "They told me you was dead! They told me the babe was dead along with mother, but I knew they was lying!"

"They told you I was dead?" Alistair asked, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "Who? Who told you that?"

"Thems at the castle! I told them the babe was the King's, and they said he was dead. Gave me a coin to shut my mouth and sent me on my way! I knew it!"

"I'm sorry, I… I didn't know that," Alistair said, solemn now. "The babe didn't die. I'm him. I'm… your brother."

She scoffed. "For all the good it does me! You killed Mother, you did, and I've had to scrape by all this time? That coin didn't last long, and when I went back they ran me off!"

Niko found himself shaking his head and speaking up for the first time since they entered. "That's not Alistair's fault."

"And who in the Maker's name are you?" Her scowl turned fully on Niko now. "Some elf to follow him about and carry his riches for him?"

"Hey don't speak to him that way," Alistair cut in sharply, surprising Niko by coming to his defense. "He's my friend, and a Grey Warden just like me."

"Ooh a Prince and a Grey Warden too? Well, who am I to think poorly of someone so high and mighty compared to me?" She mocked. "I don't know you, boy. Your royal father forced himself on my mother and took her away from me, and what do I got to show for it? Nothing. They tricked me good," Goldanna sneered. "I should have told everyone! Well, I got five mouths to feed, and unless you can help with that, I've less than no use for you."

"I… I'm sorry," Alistair sulked. "I… don't know what to say…."

"Goldanna," Niko said, softening his tone as much as he could, given her rudeness. He had to try, for his friend. "Alistair came here hoping to find his family."

"Well," she replied tightly, crossed her arms. "So he's found it. I'm his sister. But what are you to me, boy, except the one that took my mother away, hm?"

"You think I wished her dead?" Alistair questioned, outrage sharpening his tone. "I never wanted that! I didn't have the life you think I did, Goldanna."

She sighed, some of her indignation evaporating. "I suppose not. A bastard is still a bastard, isn't he? But…" She shook her head, her jaw set as she looked at him. "Brother or no, I've still got five mouths to feed and no time to spare until they are."

"Then let me promise you this, Goldanna," Alistair began, calm for first time since entering the door. "I'll do whatever I can, speak to whomever I have to, to ensure you and your children are taken care of."

"Hm." Her lips twisted into a doubtful frown. "That sounds all well and fine, but you'll have to forgive me if I don't exactly hold my breath."

"You have my promise," Alistair said, noble as he could manage before his courage waned. "I can't give you more than that. I…" His turned to Niko. "Let's go. I want to go."

The elf could see that Alistair had put on brave face, but he was ready to finally beat it out of there. Niko didn't blame him.

He opened the door and Alistair followed him out, glancing back sadly. "Goodbye, Sister."

They walked away, not in any particular direction, but they ended up halfway to the Chantry before Alistair spoke again. "Well, that was… not what I expected, to put it lightly." He stopped, staring at the ground, and Niko watched the emotions flicker across his face as he tried to make sense of it.

"This is the family I've been wondering about all my life? …I can't believe it." Alistair lifted his pained gaze to his friend. "I guess I was expecting her to accept me without question. Isn't that what family is supposed to do? I… I feel like a complete idiot."

Niko sighed. "You're not an idiot, Alistair. But people are out for themselves. You gotta remember that."

"I suppose your right," Alistair griped. He sighed in annoyance. "Let's just go. I don't want to talk about this anymore."

Niko clapped him on the shoulder and led the rest of the way to the Chantry, where they listened to Mother Perpetua and an elderly Sister shout the Chant of Light for a while. It helped lighten the mood a little to hear the Sister recite the verses wrong. Neither of them could refrain from laughing aloud when she said: "For the Maker shall be her bacon and her shield."

"Someone's ready for lunch," Niko jested, glancing to Alistair. "I like her version better."

"So do I," he agreed, and Niko was grateful to see his smile again. "I wonder why nobody taught me her version of the Chant when I was a Templar."

They soon wandered over to the Chanter's board to see if there as anything of interest. The two of them were only scanning the messages, but suddenly Niko stilled, wide eyes transfixed on a particular posting.

"Alistair," he whispered, reaching out to jostle the other Warden's arm. His gaze never left the post on the board, as if it might disappear if he took his eyes off it.

"What? What is it?" Alistair asked, smacking Niko's prodding hand away.

A wide grin spread across the elf's face as he pointed to his find.

Alistair's eyes narrowed as he read about Loghain's "honored forces". But as he continued on, his expression nearly matched Niko's.

" 'While it is unusual to post troop movements to the public board,' " he read aloud, growing a bit giddy. " 'I believe it is necessary for brethren near the affected area to respect the honored Teryn by aiding his troops…' "

They both snorted with muffled laughter, then shushed each other because they were still trying not to draw attention to themselves.

"Look, look," Niko pointed to the last line and read it quietly. " 'Treat these brave soldiers as you would treat Loghain himself.' "

"Ha ha! Oh you can bet on it," Alistair said, wiping a mirthful tear from his eye.

"What in the world is making you two giggle like a couple of school girls?" Leliana asked.

They turned to see her and Zevran returning from the market with a few sacks of potatoes and other vegetables.

"We weren't giggling," Alistair insisted, both he and Niko straightening up and putting their serious faces on.

"No? I rather thought 'giggling' was the perfect word for it," Zevran pointed out, smirking.

Niko shrugged and handed Leliana the Chantry posting he'd snagged from the board.

She looked it over, with Zevran reading over her shoulder.

"Really I can't believe they posted that in the open," Alistair said, his voice still dripping with humor when she handed it back.

"Could it be a trap?" Leliana asked. "It seems too easy."

"You'd be surprised how stupid some people really are," Zevran smirked. "Or perhaps it is carefully-worded sedition?"

"We'll check it out at least," Niko promised. "Was there anything interesting in the market?"

"Ooh! Liselle - the woman I was talking to - sells the most wonderful flowers and oils from Orlais," Leliana gushed. "And you may be interested in Wade's Emporium nearby," she added. "They say Wade is the best armorer in Denerim."

"What is this 'Wonders of Thedas'?" Zevran asked as the four of them turned to head back to the market area together. "I have heard of it even in Antiva."

"Oh I know that place," Alistair said happily. "Arl Eamon bought me a miniature golem doll there once…" This garnered some sideways glances from the others, so he tacked on, "When I was young. Really young."

"Ah," Zevran responded, disappointed. "And here I thought it was a whorehouse. Pity."

"Maybe we can go there some other time," Niko said. "We need to get to Genitivi's house."

\---

Brother Genitivi had a nice home, the fire place roaring in the warm dining room near a long oak table. Against stone-mason walls, the shelves were all proudly stacked with books - heavy tomes and dog-eared paperbacks alike. Soft, simple rugs were laid over a mostly-smooth wooden floor. It would be cozy… if it weren't for the fact that the house smelled like death.

And they found out why after a mage pretending to be Genitivi's assistant, Weylon, broke his cover. The real Weylon was lying dead in the bedroom.

As puzzling as the situation was, they got the information that they needed to move on in their quest. A chest in the bedroom held Genitivi's research into the Urn and pointed them toward the Village of Haven in the western mountains.

"Could you make any sense of what he was talking about?" Alistair asked when they left the house, Zevran and Leliana trailing just behind them.

Niko shook his head, his mind turning over details of the encounter. "He said 'us'…"

"That man could have been working with a partner," said Leliana.

"Or a whole organization," Zevran added.

"Whatever this is," Alistair said. "One thing's for sure. Brother Genitivi was on to something."

"And somebody is willing to go to great lengths to keep it hidden," Niko concluded, thinking of how the Weylon-impersonator tried so hard to steer them in the wrong direction.

"…Aren't we heading back to camp now?" Alistair asked when he noticed Niko was leading them all further into the city, into the slums.

"I just need to do one more thing," Niko told them, looking to the gate that laid ahead.

"Ah," Alistair understood. "Right. You probably want to see your family..." He quieted at the end of his sentence, remembering how his own reunion hadn't gone so well.

But Niko was sure his father and cousins would be happy to see him, not jilted and money-hungry like Goldanna... At least he hoped so. Honestly, though it might not seem like much to others, the money they were carrying on them right now was more than anyone in the Alienage had ever held in their lives. He wouldn't even blame them if they asked for a few coins.

When they tried to enter the gates though, a guard stationed out front raised his hand to stop them. "By order of the new Arl of Denerim, no one is to enter the Alienage," he informed, a little bored.

Niko blinked in surprise and scowled. "But I'm from the Alienage," he snapped without meaning to.

"You might not want to say that too loudly," the man warned. "Your kinfolk aren't exactly popular at the moment. They were rioting, and killed the Arl's son. Arl Urien didn't make it back from Ostagar. So with the Kendells family dead, the regent appointed Rendon Howe of Amaranthine as the new Arl of Denerim. First thing he did was lead a purge of the alienage."

"A purge…" Niko repeated under his breath. His blood ran cold, assaulted by his imagination mixed with memories of his mother's murder and stories of the last purge. He could just see his father's house burning down, Soris and Shianni getting run through in the street… all because he'd butchered Vaughn. His icy glare turned on the guard and Alistair instinctively clasped a hand around Niko's arm. "What the fuck do you mean a purge!?"

The guard narrowed his eyes at the elf who dared to speak to him like that. "It means the Alienage is closed. Now be on your way," he ordered.

Niko grit his teeth as he felt Alistair's strong grip guiding him gently, but insistently, away from the gates.

"I'm sorry," the warrior said, sincerity in his tone. "We can't afford to make a scene right now."

"He is right," Zevran chimed in carefully, though regretful. "We already draw too much attention to ourselves," he pointed out, eyeing the small crowds who had witnessed the outburst. "We should not linger here."

Niko could barely hear them through the ringing in his ears and the pounding panic in his heart. He looked back toward the Alienage gate, mind racing through all the crevices and weak spots he could possibly get in, places he'd memorized through use and years of living there.

But the others were all too right and he knew it. As it was, Alistair was already guiding him back to the city gates with a firm hand on his shoulder.

\---

Niko led them back to camp mostly in silence, his mind on his family and wondering if they were even still alive. Once they made it back, Niko kept to himself, making the excuse that he wanted to look over Brother Genitivi's research for more clues as to where to find the village of Haven. It wasn't on any maps so they were going to have a difficult time getting there. He sat outside his tent, pouring over the journals to distract himself. It wasn't until dinnertime that he set them down and joined the others by the fire. Leliana had made vegetable soup, much more appetizing than anything Alistair ever made he had to admit.

He found himself sitting next to Zevran, whom everyone was still wary of, though the assassin didn't seem to mind much.

Niko was of two minds about the other elf. Right now, as he swallowed down his dinner, he wondered if he'd be able to notice the signs of poisoning… and if it would even matter now that he was halfway through his meal. On the other hand, Niko believed Zevran was sincere about his oath and wanted to accept him among the group. As much as Niko liked the others, he figured it would be nice to have another elf around. At least he thought so. He didn't imagine they would have much in common beyond their race really. But Niko was intrigued with their newest recruit. Sitting next to him, he found himself studying the tattooed lines of Zevran's face and the way the light of the campfire danced across his dark skin.

Zevran suddenly turned to meet his gaze with a playful smile, perfectly aware that he was being watched. And Niko didn't feel embarrassed enough to look away.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Okay," Zevran agreed, smirking. "But I get to stare at you luridly while you do so."

Niko wasn't all that surprised to see that Zevran held to that claim, finding himself getting drawn in by the Antivan's striking gaze.

"Why did you want to leave the Crows exactly?" he asked, quietly, finally turning his eyes back to the fire to watch the flames spit embers at the ground.

"Well now, I imagine that is a very fair question," Zevran said, leaning back casually. "Being an assassin after all is a living, at least as far as such things go. I was simply never given the opportunity to choose another way." He looked to Niko. "So if that choice presents itself, why should I not seize upon it?"

"But what would you rather do?"

"Hmm. Now that you mention it, I am not entirely certain." He looked to his empty dinner bowl for a moment, as if contemplating the state of its emptiness, and then set it aside to give Niko his full attention. "I was but a boy of 7 when I was purchased, for 3 sovereigns I'm told. Which is a good price considering I was all ribs and bone and didn't know the pommel of dagger from the pointy end." He smirked a little. "The Crows buy all their assassins that way. Buy them young, raise them to know nothing else but murder. And if you do poorly in your training, you die."

Niko grimaced. "That's… kind of awful."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Zevran said airily. "The Crows who were actually good enough to survive come to enjoy some of the benefits. In Antiva, being a Crow gets you respect. It gets you wealth. It gets you women… and men. Or whatever it is you fancy." He gave a little shrug, but his eyes were trained on Niko, as if gaging his reaction. "But that does mean doing what is expected of you always. And it means being expendable. It's a cage, if a gilded cage. Pretty, but confining."

"Hm," Niko smiled, feeling a bit less tense now. When something really got to him, he tended to withdraw even though what he really needed was someone to talk to. Shianni had often scolded him for such things. He turned his gaze heavenward, watching the flickering edges of the bonfire reach for the bright stars and depths of night. "So what is it you fancy, exactly?" he asked Zevran, for the sake of appeasing his curiosity.

"I fancy many things," Zevran said. He followed Niko's gaze to the dark skies for the moment, admiring the constellations amid dusky clouds. "I fancy things that are beautiful and things that are strong. I fancy things that are dangerous and exciting…" He paused and turned his glittering eyes toward the other elf. "Would you be offended if I said I fancied you?"

Niko's gaze snapped back to the Antivan, eyes widening marginally in surprise. "I…. No. Not at all."

"This is good to know," Zevran laughed, a playful glint in his eyes. "And may I ask what it is that you fancy?"

Niko shrugged and laid back on the ground to stare up at the star-dappled sky. "I like when people surprise me. When they exceed my expectations and their own. When they do things they never thought they could." He closed his eyes and smirked. "I like a good bottle of mead, too."

Zevran chuckled softly in appreciation. "And I like a nicely-aged bottle of Antivan brandy, quite rare around these parts I should think." He sighed. "As for what I'll do in the future, presuming that there is one, I truly can't imagine. It might be interesting to go into business for myself, for a change… far away from Antiva, of course. For now, naturally, I go where you go."

Niko opened his eyes and smiled at him. "Well I'm happy to have you along."

'As long as he doesn't try to kill any of us again.' But he kept that thought to himself.

"And here I am, happy to be had," Zevran said with a grin. "Isn't it wonderful how things work out that way? Come now, enough chitchat." He picked up both of their bowls and stood, prompting Niko to sit up. "Talking about the crows summons them, you know. Any Antivan fishwife could tell you so."

Zevran took the bowls over to where Wynne and Alistair were washing dishes and offered his assistance.

Niko cocked his head as he watched Zevran, suddenly wondering how the other elf had managed to lift his spirits so easily.

It was a surprise, indeed.


	8. Boots and Bonfires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Niko gives Zevran a gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote a lot of the 'Antivan boots' scene while I was camping. It was really nice getting closer to the setting, sleeping alone in a tent in the woods and typing it up on my netbook... Well the sleeping in the tent part was accurate anyway.
> 
> Lots of "guy talk" towards the end between Alistair, Zevran, and Niko. It's mostly party banter from the game.

Niko cursed under his breath as he fumbled with the kindling, struggling to catch a spark with the rocks to get the fire going. It was quite chilly outside the village of Haven, and they would all appreciate the warmth of their usual camp fire.

Looking down at his hands, he noticed a slight quiver and it wasn't from the cold.

But who wouldn't be shaken after all they'd been through today?

They spoke to holy spirits, battled themselves, walked through fire, and killed a bloody high dragon! And what was it all for?

The ashes of a dead woman.

He'd agreed with Sten to a point. They were going far out of their way, with the value of the trip hinging on the pious faith of others.

Niko looked to the leather pouch still fastened to his belt. He supposed after everything they'd seen he'd have to be pretty stubborn not to believe in the power of the ashes now.

Still, that wasn't what was getting to him. This wasn't a crisis of faith.

He closed his eyes, seeing Shianni's face until he willed his mind into a state of blankness.

He was just so damn tired.

"Would you like a hand with that, my dear Warden?"

Niko blinked his eyes open and turned his gaze up at the Antivan.

Zevran didn't wait for a response, simply kneeling down next to him and taking over. Niko watched in silence as the other elf soon caught a spark and got a blaze going. He looked at the dancing flames, and for some reason it reminded him of his father back home. He thought back to the day of his almost-wedding, waking up to his cousin's ale-breath and his father setting more logs in the fire.

"And what makes that handsome face so tense tonight?" Zevran's voice broke him out of his thoughts.

Niko looked to him, meeting his eyes without expression. "We fought a dragon, Zevran."

"That we did; and a marvelous beast she was," Zevran mused. He was silent for a moment, his eyes narrowing in scrutiny as he glanced over the elven Grey Warden. "Sten.. roughed you up a bit before that as well," he added, his voice dropping to a sour note, as if the thought of it bothered him. Indeed, Niko had caught a glimpse of Zevran during his fist fight with Sten, and the assassin had sort of looked like he wanted to jump in.

Niko's shoulder was still sore; first from Sten's fist and then from being tossed into a rock by the dragon's heavy tail. And that was just the one injury.

"I think he and I are on good terms now though," Niko replied, glancing to where Sten stood, a few feet away from the group as usual. "Better actually."

"Well you did win that little tussle I might add," Zevran smirked at him, a bit of admiration in his eyes. "Certainly he has a proper level of respect for our mighty leader now, yes?"

Niko forced a small smile. Sten may have backed down, but he was sure the Qunari wouldn't have if he'd realized how close Niko had been to keeling over. He was fast and a vicious fighter, yes, but Sten's fist was the size of Niko's head. It was just a good thing the city-born elf was too stubborn to show any weakness in front of the group.

The way Zevran was looking at him now though, he wasn't sure he was doing a good job of that anymore.

"My point is, however, that you seem so very stressed," Zevran went on. "Just looking at you now makes me want to strip you down and give you a hot bath," he added, his tone lowering suggestively.

Niko's lips turned into a smirk, and he refused to meet Zevran's eyes for a moment, gazing at the growing bonfire instead. When he did turn to look at the other elf, he remembered something.

…Two things actually. Zevran had been there, along with Alistair, Leliana, and Niko for the Gauntlet. They'd all had their deepest insecurities uprooted and dumped in front of everyone by the Guardian.

Unsurprisingly, Alistair still felt guilty about not being with Duncan on the battlefield when he died. He and Niko had spoken of this before; and no matter how he consoled the warrior, it seemed he'd always feel regret over Ostagar. Over Duncan.

Niko understood very well, though. His own guilt, laid bare before his teammates, was for Shianni. Alistair told him he was too hard on himself (damn hypocrite), but of course it didn't help. Shianni was his family, his responsibility. And he hadn't been able to help her in time. He'd never be okay with that. And the fact remained that only his regret had become visual; whatever magic existed in that temple somehow looked into his memory to recreate Shianni's image and voice. While it had been good to see her, even in this spectral form, Niko had not liked that his cousin was being violated in this way. Maybe it was Niko's deepest regret, but it was still Shianni's secret to keep or share, not his.

And the amulet she'd handed him - now tucked safely away in his bedroll - disturbed him. The front had an ancient Chantry symbol on it, but the back was silver and mirrored. The first time he looked at it, Niko swore he caught a glimpse of his cousin's smile. But it vanished so quickly, like something seen in the corner of the eye one moment and gone the next. And every time he looked at it since then, it seemed an ordinary silver backing.

Still, despite the unsettling feeling the whole trial had left him with, he looked back on the moment with some hope. Hope for their mission, hope for Ferelden, and hope for his family locked up back in the Alienage.

He wasn't quite sure what the others had taken from it. Leliana had been rather annoyed when the Guardian suggested her vision was a ploy for attention, and she angrily denied it. Only Zevran had angrily cut the spirit off before anything telling could slip, and Niko had been surprised by the other elf's response of vehemence and distress. All he understood of Zevran's apparent regret though was that it involved a woman he'd killed.

He seemed okay now though, back to being all smirks and innuendo, somehow making Niko feel so much lighter. Like he didn't have the fate of a nation riding on his shoulders.

He didn't want to dig in to Zevran's secrets right now. Didn't want that light feeling to go away. So he didn't mention it. There were better things to discuss anyway.

"I almost forgot," Niko said, and Zevran's flirtatious look turned curious as he watched the Warden stand up. "I have something for you."

"Something for me?" Zevran asked, delight and surprise in his voice. Niko went over to his tent and reached in while Zevran followed him over. The Warden stood to face the other elf, handing over an exquisite pair of soft leather boots.

"I found these in Haven. I remembered you said about wanting a pair of Antivan boots before, and I think these are…" Niko trailed off, staring at Zevran.

Maker, that smile...

"Mmm that smell! That is Antivan leather," he confirmed. "I would know that anywhere!"

"Well, try them on," Niko insisted.

Zevran took a seat in front of the tent and Niko sat next to him. "Can you smell that?" Zevran asked and moved one boot a little closer to Niko's face. He smirked in amusement and nodded, then watched as Zevran took a strong whiff himself. "Like rotting flesh. Just like back in Antiva city," he commented and began removing his old boots as he went on. "Now if only you could find me a prostitute or two, a bowl of fish chowder and a corrupt politician, I'd really feel like I was home!" He gave a laugh and started lacing up the new boots. "And they fit as well. Marvelous!"

He admired the boots on his feet for a moment and turned to look at Niko, who'd been sitting there, watching the elf with a soft smile. He realized he had been caught staring once again and glanced away quickly while Zevran smirked at him.

"I suppose I will have to think of a way to show my thanks," the Antivan said, his tone unmistakably sultry.

Niko, who was no stranger to flirting, smirked back at him and stood. "I suppose you will."

Zevran grinned and took Niko's hand-up when it was offered. They lingered for a moment, maintaining the contact longer than was necessary.

Zevran's grin faded to a teasing smile and shook his head. "But now you've gone and distracted me once again," he chastised. And when he met Niko's eyes again he was completely serious. "I wanted to ask if you are alright."

"I… I am." He glanced away. "It was just- …seeing Shianni there. I can't-…"

Shianni's voice echoed in his mind… The question posed by the specter…

Do you remember us, where you came from, and what some of us still face every day?

He lifted his gaze to see the assassin's trained neutral expression, though there was a glimmer of encouragement in those amber irises.

"The purge is my fault. I'm the one that killed the Arl's son."

"I was of the understanding you were not given much of a choice in the situation," Zevran pointed out. "Is that not true?"

Niko nodded. Zevran knew some of what had happened. Everyone in camp had been told the gist of it, either by Niko himself or they'd heard it through the camp gossip. They all knew he'd lived in the Denerim Alienage and that he'd killed a noble for kidnapping and "hurting" his cousin. They all knew the only reason their leader wasn't rotting in jail was because Duncan had been there to conscript him. None of them knew about the arranged wedding, or the bridal party, or Soris' involvement. And Niko knew that Zevran wouldn't understand this. Self-flagellation, that's what he'd called it before. But here he was, offering an ear, at the very least. And for some reason, Niko found himself taking advantage of it.

"I know I didn't have a better option, and I'd do it again. But I just wish I could be with them now… Wish I could protect them somehow."

"Are you not already protecting them?" Zevran challenged. "This Blight, it threatens your family and your home too, does it not?"

Niko quieted. Zevran was right; he knew he was right. But that wasn't it. Beating back the darkspawn would mean nothing to his family if they were already dead.

"…..My cousin, Soris, lost his parents in the last purge, 20 years ago," Niko told as his tone darkened. "The humans set their house on fire and pushed his mother back inside when she tried to escape… I don't know what's being done to my family now. And I'm not sure they'd thank for me for leaving when the punishment for my crime has fallen to them."

Zevran shook his head. "Your friend Alistair was right, you are much too hard on yourself."

Niko turned to meet Zevran's eyes, thinking about what the Guardian had revealed about him; the woman Zevran regretted killing. He wondered if Zevran would be as reluctant to unshoulder the self-blame if it were his life they were talking about instead.

"We all have something we feel guilty about," he said with a shrug.

Zevran sighed. "Quite right."

"Thank you, though," Niko said suddenly, and it caught Zevran off guard. "Thank you for listening."

Zevran smiled. "For you, my dear Warden, I am all ears."

Niko couldn't help but laugh. That joke wasn't supposed to be as funny amongst elves, as it was a shemlen joke about their ears, but it seemed Zevran could always make him smile.

\---

The Frostback Mountains were bloody freezing and it took many days of hiking through the rough crags and peaks to get back to the Imperial Highway.

They were finally in the lowlands again, skirting around Lake Calenhad, the deep sapphire of the mysterious water observable from the high stone road they traveled on. At last, the sweltering heat of summer was relinquishing its persistent embrace of the land. The air was no longer heavy with humidity, and some of the trees were just beginning to change, a few of their green leaves turning to warmer shades of burnt-orange and marigold. The nights in camp were a bit colder now, but it was nothing compared to sleeping in the snow-capped Frostbacks.

While Morrigan and Wynne argued about the Circle of Magi and cooked the rabbits that had been caught and skinned for dinner, Leliana was singing quietly while sewing one of her shirts, and Sten was pretending not to listen to her as he stood watch.

Zevran, Niko, and Alistair were sitting near the tents, sharpening blades with whetstones. Niko had stopped when Gideon lumbered over and plopped his upper body in to his lap. For now Niko just chatted with the other two, while scratching behind the wardog's ears. They managed to keep up a stream of friendly banter, despite Alistair's lingering wariness of the Antivan assassin.

"So Zevran," Alistair started. "The stories we hear down here about the Crows… they're not true, are they? They all sound a little far-fetched."

"I cannot say. What have you heard?" Zevran inquired, glancing up from his task to look at Alistair. "In Antiva, we hear that Ferelden men cannot sleep without a dog in their bed. Is that true?"

"A dog? No, of course not…" He trailed off, and both men were suddenly looking at Niko, whose mabari was resting half on top of his legs.

Niko's eyebrows rose. "What? He doesn't sleep in my tent every night."

Zevran gave a teasing smirk and Alistair chuckled as he went on. "We value our dogs. It's part of our history."

"Oh," Zevran nodded astutely. "Perhaps it was a reference to your Ferelden women, then?"

Alistair and Niko both chuckled at that.

"But those stories you heard?" Zevran prompted. "All true."

"Really?" Alistair quirked a doubtful eyebrow at him. "Even the ones that talk about how you all… you know… get paid to…"

"Especially those ones."

"Wow," Alistair frowned. "I'm totally in the wrong Order."

"Hey Alistair," Niko started curiously, almost hesitant. "If you were raised in the Chantry, have you never…?"

"Never…? Never what?" He raised an eyebrow at the other Warden and smirked. "Never had a good pair of shoes?"

Niko rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean."

"Not sure I do," Alistair continued, and Niko was almost entirely sure Alistair was having him on. "Never seen a basilisk? Ate jellied ham? Have I never licked a lamppost in winter?"

Niko smiled shook his head. "Now you're making fun of me."

"Make fun of my comrade-in-arms?" Alistair teased, grinning. "Perish the thought."

"I believe your fellow Grey Warden means to ask if you have never had a sexual relationship, dear Alistair," Zevran pointed out, quite jovial about it actually. "I must admit, I am a bit curious myself."

"Well you tell me first," Alistair said, and when Zevran went to open his mouth, Alistair cut him off. "Not you. I've heard you brag plenty about your adventures." Zevran smiled and shrugged, and Alistair fixed Niko with a mischievous, yet inquisitive look. "So? Have you ever licked a lamppost in the winter?"

Niko smirked and shook his head. "We're going with that analogy, are we? Sure… There was this one particular lamppost I licked whenever I got the chance."

"Hm," Alistair frowned. "That's a disturbing mental image you've conjured for me right there."

"Disturbing?" Zevran balked, evidently in disagreement. "On the contrary. I require more details to complete this wondrous mental imagery." He turned to Niko with an almost conspiring look. "Tell me, what did this lamppost look like, hm?"

"Tall, dark-hair, muscular." Niko shrugged. "He's a city guard in Denerim. One of the better ones."

"Really?" Alistair and Zevran responded in unison; Alistair being genuinely surprised and Zevran just ever more curious.

"Unfortunately, we got caught and he ended it, afraid he'd get into trouble." Niko shrugged again. "Fun while it lasted though."

"I had no idea you were interested in men," Alistair commented, though he didn't sound put-off.

"Well I tried it with a woman once," Niko added. "One of the girls I knew who worked at the brothel… W-what? I didn't pay her," he clarified when Alistair's eyes widened almost comically. "She lived in the Alienage. It wasn't during her working hours. It was her idea. Stop looking at me like that." Alistair and Zevran started snickering when Niko blushed. "Anyway, it just wasn't for me. Now what about you?" he asked, directing the attention back to Alistair.

"Oh… Well… I, myself, have never had the pleasure," Alistair answered awkwardly. "Not that I haven't thought about it, of course, but… you know."

"You… lack the proper parts?" Niko suggested with a grin, just to get back at Alistair for laughing at him.

"Oh that's funny. You're cruel japes will be remembered, ser," Alistair replied with mock hurt. "If you hear sobbing later, that's me crying myself to sleep."

"I'm sorry," Niko countered. "Would you like Gideon to come sleep with you tonight?"

The mabari hound lifted his head from his master's lap at the mention of his name, and his stub of a tail started wagging.

The three of them laughed, making the dog cock his head at them in confusion.

"Or I could join you in your tent, Alistair," Zevran offered teasingly, "If you prefer."

"Oh no. No. I've had enough of this conversation." Alistair shook his head and stood up. "Who's ready for dinner? I'm ready for dinner. Ooh look, I have cheese!"


	9. A Night at the Castle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the party spends another night at Redcliffe Castle, things heat up a little between two elves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, but the next one is much longer.
> 
> Chapter Rating: T

The next day, they arrived at Redcliffe castle by late morning.

Despite their faith being the force that drove the party to the Urn of Sacred Ashes in the first place, Bann Teagan and Lady Isolde could scarcely believe the team had actually found it.

However, whether or not the pinch of ashes would actually heal the Arl remained to be seen. The man had been holding on for some time, with Circle mages working around the hour just to keep him breathing. Lying still in his ornate bed, Arl Eamon was sickly pale and covered in a layer of sweat. Lady Isolde stayed at his side, wiping his brow with a wet rag, doing any small thing she could to keep herself together.

Several minutes had passed after administering the ashes. Or at least it seemed that long. Every second that stretched on stole a bit more of everyone's hope. They all seemed to feel it when it happened though; when the ashes worked their promised miracle. The Arl's eyes opened, straining to see his younger brother and his wife, who broke into tears of relief.

The man was confused, of course. He'd missed much, and no one was eager to fill him in on what had happened to his village while he was unconscious.

Niko and Alistair left him to recuperate with his family, who would inform him of what had passed.

When the Arl emerged to join them in the throne room, he looked so remarkably better that Alistair and Niko stared in awe.

Grateful for his life, and the preservation of his family and village, Arl Eamon was moved to grant Niko and his companions the title of "Champions of Redcliffe".

As he laid awake in one of the cozy guest chambers that night, Niko wondered how many elves, if any, had been granted such a position in Ferelden before. He'd certainly never heard of any elven Champions, but then he'd never heard of Garahel, the Archdemon-conquering Grey Warden before either.

He also couldn't help but think of Alim back at the Circle Tower.

Arl Eamon had called for Niko's opinion on the matter of Jowan's fate. Jowan, though a traitor to the Arl of Redcliffe, had seemed earnest in his desire to help.

Niko was surprised when his recommendation to send Jowan back to the Circle of Magi had been accepted. He only hoped it was a suggestion Alim would have approved of. Surely Jowan would be made Tranquil for all he'd done since escaping the Tower. And Niko had met enough Tranquil mages to question whether the emotionless condition was actually a fate better than death. It had seemed the only fair choice though. He certainly wasn't going to advocate for the mage's execution.

He sighed and sat up on the expensive coverlet. Gideon looked up at him from where he was sitting on the soft decorative rug in the middle of the room. He'd tried jumping up on the bed with Niko earlier, but the elf wasn't sure if it would be in bad decorum to have his smelly hound on the bedspread. So he'd directed Gideon to stay off the furniture, and the mabari obeyed, though with a disappointed whine that nearly had Niko calling him back up on the bed.

Morrigan was probably right; the dog really was manipulating him.

He couldn't help but let his mind wander to Alistair either. After the party had been fed a hearty feast in the castle dining room, the Arl sat down with Alistair, Niko, and Bann Teagan to discuss how to make their next move.

They had two threats to contend with; Loghain and the Archdemon.

When Loghain had returned from Ostagar with his full army, he'd announced King Cailan's death, declared himself Regent to the throne, and accused the Grey Wardens of treason. Not all of the nobility had responded positively to his actions, and it seemed civil war was upon Ferelden. That much had been clear to Alistair and Niko when they responded to the Chantry Board posting they found in Denerim. They'd travelled into the pastures of the bannorn just in time to intercept Loghain's troops as they attempted a forced invasion of Bann Telmen's land.

Arl Eamon's most viable proposition was to call for a Landsmeet of the Bannorn and put forth a stronger candidate for the throne. His suggestion for King was not himself, Bann Teagan, or any other noble, but Alistair. Of course Alistair had been less than thrilled. Niko wasn't surprised. He'd known his friend didn't want to be King even before he'd openly objected to the plan. They had no other choice though. Arl Eamon and Bann Teagan would be accepted no more eagerly among the Banns than Loghain. Even if he was Maric's bastard child, Alistair still had royal blood and would be seriously considered because of it. That was the plan anyway. The only alternative would be to accept Loghain's rule so they could avoid civil war and save their numbers for the darkspawn incursion. And no one wanted that.

As for the Blight, they were to carry on as they'd been. They already had the Circle of Magi's aid. There were Grey Warden treaties obliging the Dwarves of Orzammar and the Dalish elves to send aid as well. Niko and his companions just had to seek them out.

Easier said than done.

Niko stood from his bed and sat down to a small table with his pack. He rifled through and pulled out his map, setting it down flat on the tabletop next to a small candle.

His mind was too busy for him to fall asleep, though it was still a bit early yet anyway. Smoothing out the rumpled paper, Niko's eyes landed on Redcliffe, and he followed a short line southward from there to find the little X he'd marked recently.

When they'd gotten out of the Frostback mountains, they'd stumbled into the Ferelden half of Sulcher's Pass, a rocky, dangerous route where Alistair had nearly broken his ankle. There, a merchant with a funny name had been eager to get rid of a golem control rod he had. Niko didn't know a thing about golems, but he was assured they were big, and strong, and especially useful in a battle. The catch was, though, that the golem was stationed elsewhere; a little village south of Redcliffe called Honnleath.

He decided he could take a few of his teammates out first thing in the morning to go activate the golem. It was worth checking out, at least, and hardly out of their way. He traced his finger over the road heading northeast from Redcliffe and stopped at Lake Calenhad, tapping that spot on the map.

Ever since that fist fight in Haven with Sten, the Qunari seemed to be "warming" to Niko. Just a little. When the Grey Warden returned from the battle with the high dragon, Sten came up and confessed that Niko wasn't as callow as he'd thought. A bit of a backhanded compliment, but he took it. When they had neared Redcliffe, they came across a dwarven merchant on the road, and Niko bought a painting from him. It got his attention because it depicted the Rebel Queen of Ferelden during the Orlesian occupation, who was, of course, also Alistair's grandmother. He'd bought it to show Alistair, who was quite certain the artist had gotten Queen Moira's hair color wrong. Sten had actually been more impressed with it, and admitted to having an appreciation for paintings. Niko gifted him with the artwork, which had gotten a small smile out of the Qunari.

Though their conversations were still sometimes awkward and stilted, their relationship was definitely better. Sten had even opened up about the murders he committed in Lothering. Apparently he'd come to Ferelden with other Qunari warriors to find out what the Blight was. They were overwhelmed by darkspawn, an experience Niko could relate to. Sten had woken up in the company of the farmers that saved him, but without his greatsword. Sten had snapped on his rescuers because he was shamed over his missing sword and would never be allowed back home without it. It was as strange as all the Qunari customs Niko had learned about, but it was an important one.

It didn't excuse what Sten had done, but he was trying to seek redemption at least. He'd said the darkspawn had attacked him near Lake Calenhad. It was a bit of a long shot, but Niko decided they could at least check there to see if the sword remained. It wasn't out of the way; it just meant they would be taking the northern road toward the Brecilian Forest instead of the southern route. That's where they would look for the Dalish elves.

Niko gave the map one last lingering look before rolling it back up to put in his pack. He stood, blew out the candle, and went over to Gideon, patting the dog on the head and telling him to stay before slipping out of the room.

The halls were empty, making a good place for a quiet walk. The doors to his companions' guest quarters were all closed and he assumed most of them would be asleep. Only Alistair's door was ajar, with no one inside. Niko turned from the open doorway and was startled to find Zevran leaning against the wall at the end of the hall.

He'd mostly hidden his surprise, but Zevran had still caught the tiny flinch. He smirked and pushed off the wall, walking towards Niko. "Ah, I apologize, my dear Warden. I did not mean to alarm you."

"I'm fine." Niko shook his head and looked at Zevran, who continued his approach until there was less than a foot of space between them. "What are you doing up?"

Zevran shrugged innocently. "I noticed my good friend Alistair was wandering about the castle, and I simply wanted to be certain that there would be no attempts on his life here," he answered with a small smirk.

Niko raised an eyebrow at him. "You're Alistair's body guard now? Friends too?"

"Hm, surely you are too clever for me," Zevran teased. "Okay, I admit, I was spying on a conversation in the study between our dear Alistair and the Arl."

"They're talking?" Niko asked. "About what?"

"Nothing to be concerned with, of course," Zevran reassured as he put a hand on Niko's back to guide him down the hall again. "They are having a special bonding moment. Rather boring actually. No fun to eavesdrop on, I assure you."

Niko huffed a laugh and shook his head. "You're a menace."

"Mm, perhaps you'd better lock me away then," Zevran suggested with a wink.

Niko glanced to the side to see that Zevran had led them to the door on the end. Niko's guest chambers.

He felt the hand on his back lowering slowly.

Smirking, he turned to face the assassin, who happily settled both of his hands on Niko's waist then.

"Well I have a room to keep you in," Niko spoke softly, clutching Zevran's biceps and stroking the hard muscle. "But I hope you don't mind the big, slobbering warhound that's in there too."

"You Ferelden men and your dogs," Zevran chastised, his hot breath tickling the other elf's neck as he nuzzled Niko's jaw. "Why not let someone else warm your bed tonight, hm?"

He grinned at this and pulled back a little to look at Zevran, his amber eyes trained so intently on Niko, it felt like the Antivan was putting him under a spell.

Only it wasn't a spell at all, it was pure lust and attraction. They both felt it; a heated, magnetic draw between them, snuffing out all other sensations. And the soft layers of expensive leisure-wear they'd been gifted with during their stay were thin but effectively restrictive barriers between their burning skin, both so eager to touch, and grab, and kiss.

Whatever witty reply Niko had been preparing had already escaped him. His green eyes stayed locked on Zevran's, and his palms moved up to smooth over the silky crimson fabric of Zevran's new tunic. He could feel the firmness of the assassin's chest and the steady beat of his heart underneath.

Zevran flashed a pearly-white smile and chuckled softly as Niko's eyes strayed to his lips. He took a few steps closer until the Grey Warden's back was pressed flat against the wall.

Niko bit his lip against a moan when Zevran brought their bodies together, now standing chest-to-chest in the corridor. Zevran left several sharp nips along Niko's neck before kissing his way up the Warden's jawline.

Unable to restrain himself any longer, Niko's hands flew up to Zevran's face and pulled him into rough, open-mouthed kiss. Zevran's grip on the Warden's waist tightened and pulled him hard against him. They both released low moans into each other's mouths, and Zevran grasped the other elf's face to change the angle of their lips so he could dip his tongue inside to press against Niko's. Both of them desperately breathed in much-needed air through their noses, their mouths otherwise occupied. They took their time, tongues coming together languidly and gliding behind teeth until Zevran opened the top buttons of Niko's fancy, indigo shirt and pressed his wet lips to the other elf's collarbone.

Niko was incensed, eyes shut tight, head dipping back against the wall as his fingers became entangled in Zevran's blond hair. He opened his mouth in a silent moan as he felt Zevran's teeth scrape the tender flesh of his neck. The Antivan's hands were sliding low, just about to touch the curve of Niko's ass, when they heard two pairs of heavy footsteps echoing down the hall towards them.

They both withdrew from each other just in time to see Alistair and the Arl turn the corner into their hallway.

"Oh," Alistair said, stopping outside his own borrowed bedroom and regarding the two elves with a raise of his brow. "I thought everyone would be asleep by now."

While Niko opened and closed his mouth several times, unable to respond, Zevran smiled easily and placed a companionable hand on Niko's shoulder. "How could we sleep knowing the future King of Ferelden is not safe in his bed chambers, hm?"

Alistair grimaced. "Right. Of course," he responded sourly. "Well I'm going to bed now."

"Have you found the accommodations suitable?" the Arl asked them.

"Yes," Niko answered, finally able to form words. "This is the nicest room I've ever stayed in."

They were actually the same rooms they'd stayed in the last time they were at the castle, after they'd saved Conner, but the Arl didn't know that.

"If you need anything, please let one of the servants…" he trailed off, probably remembering that many of his servants had been mutilated and/or killed while he'd been comatose. Aside from the slip, he kept himself composed though. "Well, please let me know if you need anything at all."

He turned to leave and Alistair hesitated at his door. He looked to the two elves, and Niko tried not to think about the fact that the top three buttons of his shirt were undone and Zevran's hair was a bit tangled. And he didn't dare check to see if there were bite marks on his skin. Hopefully Alistair would just be oblivious if they didn't bring attention to these things.

"Have you decided where we're going tomorrow?" the warrior asked Niko.

"Uh, yes I have," he replied, clearing his throat. "We'll head east to the Brecilian forest. But first, you, Wynne, Zevran, and I are going to Honnleath to see about that golem the merchant told us about."

"Guess we'll be up bright and early then?" Alistair said. "Better get some sleep."

"Quite right," Zevran agreed, catching Niko's eye with a quick glance before heading to his own room. "I look forward to seeing your smiling faces first thing tomorrow!" He laughed as Alistair and Niko watch his retreating form.

"Sure you do," Alistair mumbled, shaking his head. He glanced to Niko before slipping into his room. "Well good night."

"Night," Niko replied, monotonously. He walked in and shut the bedroom door behind him, staring at the far wall for a moment. The once cozy room now felt cold and empty. He walked back to his bed and threw himself face down on the covers.

Gideon stood to all fours and yawned. He trod over and jumped up to lay down on the other side of the bed.

Niko frowned, but left the hound sleep where he wanted. He didn't care about the consequences of having the dog on the extravagant duvet anymore, especially since Arl Eamon had been one half of that royal cock-blocking party.

Niko sighed and rolled over onto his back. He glanced to the closed door, half-expecting to see Zevran sneak in, but he knew it wouldn't happen. The look Zevran had given him before he walked away said they would address this later. The mood had been ruined when they were interrupted, and they actually did need to get some rest for tomorrow. Niko couldn't even remember the last he'd slept a full night and woke up feeling refreshed. Sometime before his horrific wedding day, that was for sure.


	10. A Rock and a Hard Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Niko takes some of his companions to pick up a valuable object in a little village near Redcliffe called Honnleath. What he finds is much different than what he expected. Later, Zevran shows off his massage skills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING SMUT AHEAD. There is sexual content in this chapter. So if you do not want to risk stumbling upon it, I advise just skipping everything after Shale's appearance.
> 
> Chapter Rating: M

The village had been overrun with darkspawn when the party arrived, greeted by corpses strung up at the entrance.

In the midst of the massacre, a peculiar stone statue stood alone in the middle of the village, and Wynne informed them that this was the golem they were searching for. It stood in an aggressive pose, great hulking arms thrown in the air, head tilted back - in a ferocious roar perhaps. Chipped blue crystals were embedded in the shoulders and glowing markings were etched into its stone body. It looked quite bizarre, and probably magical. The password they were given by the merchant did not work however. The statue didn't move.

Niko shrugged and decided they should check for survivors.

Throughout it all, he couldn't stop letting his eyes wander to Zevran. They hadn't spoken much since last night, only a few words of exchange over an early breakfast at the castle. And every time the other elf stood near him, Niko felt heat rise to his ears as he was reminded of how close they'd been the night before; of Zevran's tongue in his mouth and their bodies pressed together.

Nothing was wrong really, it just felt like there were unfinished matters between them. Some sort of tension that they had no time – or privacy – to iron out.

Upon venturing into one of the village cellars, they found a few frightened people behind some kind of magical barrier, the only protection between them and the darkspawn.

Matthias was the name of one of the trapped villagers, son of the mage who used to own the statue in fact. In exchange for rescuing his daughter, who had ran off further into the cellar, Matthias gave them the correct password to activate the golem… though with a warning. He claimed the golem had long ago killed its former master, Matthias' father, Wilhelm. Broken every bone in his body.

Though Wynne and Alistair had reservations about waking the golem after learning that bit of information, Niko decided to give it a try. They already had plenty of other murderers in their group, as Zevran (ironically) pointed out.

Feeling a little silly, Niko stepped forward and, once again, held up the control rod before speaking the password. "Dulen harn."

The first difference Niko noticed was the dirt crumbling out of the statue's elbows where the joints seemed to be trying to move. Then the neck trembled and the arms jerked, all accompanied by the grinding, crunching sound of shifting stone.

Niko couldn't help but wonder what weapon would work best to subdue this creature if they needed to.

Probably a maul… None of them had a maul…

They all took a step back as the statue seemed to acquire full mobility, shaking off the last of the loose rocks and dirt and turning its face to them.

"I knew that the day would come when someone would find the control rod," were the first words out of the golem's stone mouth.

In truth, when they found the stone statue, Niko hadn't expected it to speak at all. The creature proved rather sapient though as it went on.

"I stood here in this spot and watched the wretched villagers scurry around me for- oh, I have no idea how long. Many, many years," the golem informed them, some annoyance marking its otherwise dry voice.

"And the villagers had no idea they were being watched?" Alistair mused. "Creepy."

"Tell me," the golem prompted. "Are all the villagers dead?"

"Not all of them, no," Niko answered.

"Some got away then? How unfortunate."

Niko frowned. "Did you watch the attack?"

"Not as much as it would think," the golem answered. "There was running and screaming… and then days and days of watching the darkspawn prowl around. I would never have thought there could be something less interesting than the villagers, but there it was." The statue's eyes, which were nothing but glowing blue lights, seemed to turn to the brassy control rod in Niko's hand. "Well go on then, out with it," the golem said. "What is its command?"

"Why are you calling me 'it'?" Niko asked.

"Entrenched sense of perversity," the statue answered. "The last one to hold that damnable rod used to call me 'golem'." It spat the word out with vehemence, and then went on mockingly; "'Golem, fetch me that chair', 'do be a good golem and squash that insipid bandit', and let's not forget 'Golem, pick me up. I tire of walking!'" The statue paused, glowing eyes squinting at the Grey Warden. "It… does have the control rod, doesn't it? I am awake… so it… must."

"Is something wrong?" Niko asked because clearly the statue was perturbed. He was surprised someone made of stone could, in fact, be so expressive.

"I see the control rod," it said, staring at the object in the elf's hand. "Yet I feel…" The statue straightened and looked at Niko. "Go on. Order me to do something."

"Alright," he said, glancing around for some inspiration. His eyes landed on the source of his pent up lust, who had been uncharacteristically quiet today. "Go hug Zevran."

"Ah, I don't care much for foreign objects invading my personal space…" the elf interjected. He glanced to Niko, playfulness lightening his features. "Well usually."

Niko turned away, smiling to himself. He felt foolish for getting so cheerful over the little quip, but he'd been aching for some kind of acknowledgement of what had transpired between them last night.

"And… nothing…" the statue said, amazed. "I feel nothing. I feel no compulsion to carry out its command." The statue's brow seemed to rise, as if lifting eyebrows that weren't there. "I suppose this means the rod is… broken?"

'Great,' Niko thought, suddenly feeling a little twitchy and ready to reach for his weapons. 'Just great. I released a stone giant that hates people.'

"So what now?" he asked. "Go on a killing rampage?"

"Don't be ridiculous," the statue replied. "Well… I wouldn't mind killing the birds." It clenched its massive stone fists. "Those evil birds and their foul droppings! I could crush them all!"

Niko grimaced and glanced around, seeing his companions' expressions mostly mirrored his own.

"Hmm." The golem's body relaxed. "I suppose if I can't be commanded, this means… I have free will, yes? It is simply… what should I do?" The statue pondered. "I have no memories beyond watching this village for so long. I have no purpose… I find myself at a bit of a loss." The golem looked to Niko again. "What about it? It must have awoken me for some reason, no? What did it intend to do with me?"

"Mostly we kill darkspawn," Niko answered, giving the short version of his quest. "I was hoping you could help."

"The very creatures that destroyed this village," it responded. "The darkspawn are an evil that must be destroyed, it's true. Though not as evil as the birds… Damnable feathered-fiends!"

It seemed the golem had a bit of a complex.

"I suppose I have two options, do I not?" the statue continued. "Go with it or… go elsewhere? I… do not even know what lies beyond this village."

Niko crossed his arms, studying the golem. "Can I trust you? I mean, you killed your former master."

"Did I?" it sounded genuinely surprised, though not remorseful. Maybe even pleased by the fact. "I remember that I had a former master. The mage with the furry brows who poked and prodded and barked orders. Did I kill him?" It paused in consideration before going on. "I hope I did kill him. Perhaps the last order he barked was 'Golem! Stop crushing my head!' Ha!"

"I noticed you don't call him 'it'," Niko pointed out.

"Yes," the golem replied dryly. "I'm just funny that way."

"Well," Niko sighed. "If you aren't interested in killing us then you're welcome to come with me."

"Aaare you certain you want to bring that… thing with us?" Alistair asked, sounding like he disapproved. "It could be dangerous," he whispered. "And large."

Niko shrugged. "Large and dangerous sounds useful to me. Think of it as a portable battering ram."

"Good point," he conceded. "Better it than me anyhow."

"I will follow it about then… for now." The golem decided. "I am called Shale, by the way."

"I'm Niko," he introduced. "This is Alistair, Wynne, and Zevran."

They made their way back down the slopes of the village. Shale's footsteps were rather heavy and loud… and they also stopped when the group came to the hanging corpses at the bottom of the hill.

Just when Niko glanced back to see why he couldn't hear Shale anymore, he instead heard the frightened squawk of a chicken and a loud thud. Shale looked up at him and shrugged. The Warden didn't fail to notice the splatter of blood under the statue's feet.

On the way back to Redcliffe, they explained a few more details of their quest to Shale, who was unconcerned with the politics and was content as long as it got to crush the heads of darkspawn. It also remarked that they had a very slim chance of success in their undertakings.

Zevran was a little more talkative on the way. He kept asking Shale about what it was like to be a statue and wondering if it would rather be made of flesh. Shale, of course, found the notion utterly disgusting.

"Well that took you longer than we expected," Leliana commented when they returned to the castle.

She, Morrigan, and Sten were already packed and ready to leave.

"There was more trouble there than we expected," Niko answered.

"You were surprised?" Morrigan asked pointedly.

"Not really." It seemed there was always more trouble to be found no matter where they went. "Anyway, this is Shale," Niko said, gesturing to the statue. "Shale, this is Leliana, Morrigan, Sten, and Gideon," he said when the dog padded up to them, cocking his head at Shale.

The others seemed to be a bit confused as to why Niko was introducing them. But then Shale started talking.

"More squishy flesh creatures," the statue mused, unimpressed. Its eyes turned on Gideon and seemed to glare at him. "I'm watching you, dog. Do you know how many of your kind urinated on me in that village? And all I could do was stand there and watch, helpless. If I see one of those legs of yours lift in my direction – pow!" Shale threatened, slamming one heavy stone fist into an equally heavy palm for emphasis.

Gideon whined, and the others stared in shock.

"Oh it… it talks," Leliana stammered and smiled. "How interesting!"

"The control rod doesn't work, so Shale has free will," Niko explained. "But it has decided to join us anyway."

"We are glad to have you along, Shale," Leliana welcomed.

"Oh speak for yourself, woman," Morrigan snapped in annoyance. She then looked to Niko. "One of those mindless, Chantry-leashed mages sought you while you were away."

Wynne threw a nasty glare in Morrigan's direction, which she ignored.

"Uh… Oh, you mean one of the Tranquil?" Niko asked.

"Indeed," Morrigan grouched. "He is still in the courtyard, I believe."

"Alright."

As Niko turned for the castle courtyard, he could vaguely hear Sten asking what a golem is.

\---

After speaking with the representative from the Circle of Magi about gathering resources, they set out on the road again. Niko wanted to travel close to Lake Calenhad in case they found any indication as to where Sten might have lost his sword. He wasn't quite sure what to look for though. Abnormally large corpses? Their equipment had probably been looted by now, but there may be a clue somewhere.

The party hadn't quite yet reached the docks when the sun began to set. The tents were hastily arranged while dinner was made. It was Alistair's turn to cook again and no one was looking forward to the grey mush he always prepared. If it weren't for the fact that the ex-Templar worked so diligently on the stews, serving them up with an eager smile, Niko would have thought he was making the bland meals on purpose just to get out of future cooking duty.

It wasn't until after supper that the elven Grey Warden was finally able to shrug off some of his armor; unbuckling belts, bracers, greaves, and the leather cuirass, which was a literal weight off of his chest. This left him in a pair of dark leather pants and a red sleeveless tunic.

He thought maybe he'd better clean off some of the darkspawn blood smeared across the leather pieces, but couldn't bring himself to do it. He'd been on his feet nonstop since early morning and there was nothing that sounded less appealing than more work.

There was something else nagging him in the back of his mind though; he was just too exhausted to chase after the niggling thought to figure it out. Rubbing his shoulder, he scanned the camp. He noticed their newest recruit, Shale, was off on the outskirts near the Dwarven merchant Bodahn and his son Sandal, who often liked to travel close to Niko and his companions for safety. He'd talked to Shale earlier to make sure the statue was settled in. He wasn't sure what exactly "settling in" would mean for a golem, but Shale did seem content enough.

Most of the others were getting ready to go to sleep. Niko was considering the option too when he heard someone approaching him.

"Tsk tsk tsk, look at you," Zevran said when Niko turned to look at him. "Your weary stance, the dark circles under your eyes. Poor man. All this constant walking has gotten to you." His voice lowered and a suggestive gleam lit his eyes. "Do you know what you need?"

Niko gave a tired smirk. "A horse?"

Zevran chuckled softly. "A little late for that, I should think." He half-smiled, an expression settling onto his face that was almost predatory, an assassin priming his target. His eyes trailed over the other elf in consideration before taking a deliberate step closer and catching Niko's inquisitive gaze. "My thought is this: we retire to your tent and I show you the sort of massage skills one only learns growing up in an Antivan whorehouse."

Niko's eyebrows raised at the suggestion, and suddenly he didn't feel so very tired anymore. "Are you suggesting what I think are?"

Zevran smiled knowingly and reached forward to idly play with the v-shaped collar of Niko's shirt. "If you mean to ask whether or not there might be more than a massage involved, allow me simply to say that you won't be disappointed with any of the techniques I have picked up over the years." His tone had lowered to an unmistakably seductive level, each lilted word going straight to Niko's groin.

"Sounds good to me." The response came out of Niko's mouth before he even realized he was saying it. He was so preoccupied with the tingling of his skin, warmth creeping up his neck. All that pent up desire for the other elf was returning full force, and he realized that was the thought that had been chasing him.

"A willing victim it is," Zevran said, taking one more step forward to close the remaining distance, lust-tinged heat radiating between them. "And, if I may ask, should the opportunity to proceed past the massage present itself…?"

Niko gasped softly when he felt fingers caress his leather-clad hip.

Zevran was trying to make sure his intentions were as clear as possible. Which was understandable, even considering their heated kiss back at Redcliffe castle.

Niko wanted to be clear, too.

Holding Zevran's serene, amber gaze, he leaned in, and the assassin could feel the feather-light breath on his lips when Niko replied. "I'll leave it to you."

Zevran grinned and both of his tactful hands gripped Niko's waist to take them a step back towards the tent. "Then why are we still talking?"

\---

Niko was surprised that a massage was involved at all really. When they entered the tent, Zevran produced a few small vials of assorted oils, choosing one before giving Niko a smirk and instructing him to lie on his stomach.

The Warden did so, removing his shirt first and setting it aside. He laid flat on his belly, resting his chin on arms crossed in front of him, and remained very still. Outside he could hear some rustling coming from another tent and Gideon digging at the ground, but he couldn't tell what Zevran was doing behind him.

A brief image of the assassin withdrawing a knife and slitting his throat entered Niko's mind. He would be dead and Zevran would be long gone before anyone was the wiser.

The morbid thought was interrupted when he heard fabric drop beside him and Niko glanced to the side, realizing it was Zevran's tunic. He'd taken it off and was now rubbing oil into his hands.

Niko relaxed a bit, closing his eyes and smiling when he felt Zevran straddle his hips.

"I can practically hear you smirking up there," he pointed out and Zevran pretty much confirmed it by letting out a huff of laughter.

"No smirking here, no," he lied. "Though I must say I have found myself in a rather privileged position."

"Congratulations. I'm sure you- ohh..." Niko lost track of what he was about to say when he felt strong hands press into the knotted muscles of his back, slowly easing away some of the tension there. With a reaction like that, he was sure the Antivan elf was all the more satisfied with himself.

"Hm you like that, do you?" Zevran asked. Oh yes, he was smirking.

Niko felt more relaxed than he had in months as Zevran worked his hands all over his upper body, pressing broad strokes down the curve of his back and caressing his spine. His whole body felt hot and pliable. Soothing oil, warmed by Zevran's own palms, was rubbed into his skin. It smelled woody and a bit sweet, like cypress and pine with a touch of honey. Niko rather liked it; it reminded him of the wood piles his father kept by the fireplace, and of the very forests he often found himself sleeping in now.

Zevran gently removed Niko's arms out from under his chin and brought them to rest against his sides instead. The Warden didn't object at all, completely content to let Zevran mold him anew with his capable hands. He rubbed Niko's arms and then worked his shoulders again, digging his thumbs into the thick muscle and then massaging luxurious strokes down his back.

Zevran smiled with each short moan he elicited from the Warden, deliberately drawing them out of him, though Niko tried to stifle it every time. Zevran then began rubbing little circles into the small of his back, just above the waistband of Niko's leather trousers.

"So much tension in those muscles, my dear Warden," he said softly while he moved backwards to kneel above the other elf's thighs. His hardening length barely brushed against Niko's leg as he did so, but it sent a bit of a silent thrill through them both.

"I think you're enjoying this as much as I am," Niko pointed out to the assassin.

Zevran snickered quietly, almost unheard. "How could I not?"

He splayed his hands out, digging the heels of his palms into Niko's lower back and then caressed up and down his sides with firm fingertips. It was so soothing, the tent was so warm, and Niko was so worn out from hiking around the country. He could very easily drift to sleep like this if it weren't for the slow, sensuous haze of desire mounting between them, and the knowledge that all of their cravings would soon be satisfied.

He drew in a breathy gasp, momentarily surprised when Zevran's hands slipped under his pants and his smallclothes. He felt firm hands kneading his ass and he was unable to suppress the low moan that slowly escaped his lips. And Zevran didn't stop until those muscles were as free of tension as the others.

When he did finally withdraw his hands, Zevran was silent and Niko was as relaxed and aroused as he could stand to be at the same time. He closed his eyes, inhaling the refreshing fragrance of cypress that lingered on his skin, mixed with Zevran own unique, somewhat spicy scent. The camp was mostly quiet now. There were no more noises from the tents nearby and Gideon's yapping had long ago ceased. The crickets, of course, chirped their nightly song, and camp was near enough to the water's edge that they could faintly hear the ripples in the lake lapping gently against the shore.

Niko felt more of Zevran's weight on him when the Antivan elf leaned in, his long blond hair tickling Niko's shoulders as he placed soft kisses on the back of his neck.

Smiling, Niko hummed in approval and Zevran responded by trailing his lips to Niko's ear, licking the shell and nipping the pointed tip.

His pants were becoming uncomfortably constricting, and Niko felt heat pool into his stomach, anxious and excited for what was to come. He brought himself up on his elbows and looked back at Zevran. He was met with soft lips against his own and the Antivan's hand caressing his cheek.

"If you are of a mind to," Zevran said, each word brushing his lips against Niko's. "I would prefer to continue the massage with far less clothing."

He kissed him again and Niko was unable to give his answer until Zevran withdrew.

"I'm definitely of a mind to," he mumbled.

Niko maneuvered onto his back and Zevran helped him out of his leather pants, peeling them off along with his smallclothes.

If he weren't so relaxed from such a thorough massage, Niko would feel more vulnerable lying naked under Zevran, who was still half-dressed and hovering above him. The assassin smirked, eyes trailing over Niko's body, gaze lingering on his half-hard cock before reaching for the vial of scented massage oil again.

Niko watched as Zevran warmed the oil in his palms, marveling at the other elf's shirtless form; his taut biceps and smooth, firm chest. Not that he'd never seen it before. Zevran often walked around camp at night in nothing more than a simple pair of loose trews, like he was in now. Zevran was more muscular than any elf he'd met before, though still lean and agile. The dark lines of the tattoos on his back matched the sharp elegance of the one on his face. And the markings came around to the front in curved points just enough to accentuate the slight curve of his hips. No doubt there were similar ones in less conspicuous places…

Niko bit his bottom lip against another moan as Zevran gripped his legs, kneading the top muscle and rubbing small circles into the inner thighs with his thumbs. Then Zevran worked on each calf individually, slowing in his ministrations as he met the other elf's half-lidded eyes.

Never dropping his gaze from Niko's, he slowly traced one finger over the Warden's ankle, causing him to shiver. Zevran smiled leisurely and Niko watched as the Antivan came back to him, kissing his way up Niko's chest, his neck, and then finally made it to his lips. Niko wrapped his arms around Zevran's back and drew him nearer, allowing more of the assassin's weight to press down on him.

Their bodies were practically molded together; hips aligned, bare stomachs and chests pressed together, lips collectively seeking more and becoming wet, open-mouthed revelry.

Niko groaned into Zevran's mouth when the Antivan ground his hips against Niko's, pressing his clothed length against Niko's naked one. In response, the Warden's hands lowered from Zevran's back and hastily reached for the Antivan's trousers, trying to tug them off.

Zevran withdrew with a smirk, leaving Niko panting while he removed the dark blue trews he wore, sliding them off easily and tossing them aside with his earlier-discarded tunic.

Niko grinned, pleased with the sight. He sat up and went to the Antivan on his knees, and Zevran locked his arms around Niko's waist, resuming their kiss.

The Warden's arms draped over Zevran's shoulders and he slid his fingers into the elf's soft hair, forcing a deeper kiss, tongues sliding together. Zevran let his hands roam freely down Niko's body, pressing firm fingers that, in Niko's imagination, would leave lasting marks.

They lowered back down on the bedroll, their kisses turning fierce and rough as need and heat grew between them. Zevran gripped Niko's thigh, giving a hard squeeze just above his knee before placing himself between the Warden's legs. Niko drove his hips upward, prompting both of them to moan loudly before quickly biting it back. They both quieted for a second, and Niko was wincing, hoping no one heard them. Zevran caught his eye and they both smiled, soft breaths of laughter intermingling as their lips slowly came together again, kissing gently this time.

Zevran then sat up and reached for one of his vials. This one was not a massage oil, and Niko watched with anticipation as Zevran removed its cap and poured some onto his fingers. The Warden readily drew his knees back to his chest, where he felt his heart beating hard and fast, both eager for the pleasure and wary of the inevitable pain.

As Zevran sunk one slick finger in, Niko bit down on his lip and reminded himself to relax. It made it a little easier for Zevran to prepare him. The Antivan was surprisingly tender and patient, leaving an affectionate kiss on Niko's inner thigh before adding a second finger. Niko was somewhere between pleasured and pained as both fingers moved in and out with a scissoring motion. It was dizzying and delightful.

By the time Zevran added a third finger, Niko was eagerly pressing back against him, and Zevran soon decided to withdraw all three fingers completely. Niko grinned as he inclined his head to watch Zevran. The assassin was adding more slippery contents of the vial to his hand, which he then wrapped around his cock. He prepared himself now, eyes flickering to Niko, who gazed hungrily at Zevran's solid length.

Zevran smirked at this and soon crawled back over to Niko, kissing him firmly once more before kneeling back. With one hand he grasped the Warden's hip, and with the other he guided himself in.

They both let out gasping moans, unconcerned with who may have heard them this time. Zevran was slow to push in further, letting Niko grow accustomed to the sensation.

Niko clenched his teeth against the tight burn inside of him, and he wanted to both laugh and cry thinking about "foreign objects invading his personal space". He didn't do either of those things though. Instead Niko forced his own eyes open so he could see Zevran hovering over him, his hands planted on either side of Niko's head. He brought his legs up to wrap around the Antivan's body and Zevran sank in deeper to fill him. Niko stifled a moan and threw his head back, so Zevran used the opportunity to lean down and kiss the exposed skin.

Zevran took him slowly at first. Inch by inch, the heat and haze of ecstasy grew until nothing but desire filled the small quarters of the tent. He watched as the tense lines of Niko's face smoothed, and he knew the exact moment that the discomfort was overwhelmed by sheer pleasure for him. Peering down at the Grey Warden, he was unable to resist slipping his tongue into those parted lips, giving a particularly hard thrust as he did so. Niko's muffled moan against his lips had a dizzying effect on Zevran, who pressed more fiercely against the other elf's lips in an effort to capture the feeling.

He pulled back and watched Niko's lids close over the green of his eyes, dark lashes suddenly netting Zevran's attention. He placed brief kisses on those too before repositioning himself to take harder, quicker thrusts into the Warden.

Niko's hands were all over Zevran, each ghosting touch over his back and arms a whisper of want and gratitude. He'd needed this. All of his time was spent as a leader, a role he'd never asked for. Day in and day out, he thought constantly of avoiding ambush and intrigue, warring across the back roads of the nation, yet still somehow on the front lines, the tip of the spear against the Blight. It was too much pressure, and every night Niko was afraid he would fold under its weight.

But tonight, with Zevran, his burdens were left outside the tent. In here, it was just the two of them, and the assassin was more than willing to be the one who helped strip away Niko's worries. He knew that every day the Grey Warden fought hard to maintain control; control of the darkspawn threat, control of their battles, control of his own emotions. What he wanted now was to hand over that control to someone else, to let it go for just one night.

Zevran suddenly withdrew his still hard cock from him, and Niko was about to groan in protest. But he was pleasantly surprised when he was swiftly flipped, now on his hands and knees. He couldn't help but grin when Zevran took him from this new position, feeling that last bit of control slip away when the Antivan grasped his hips and plunged into him.

He dug his fingers into the fabric of the bedroll beneath him, angling himself back into Zevran's firm thrusts. One of the assassin's hands remained on his hip, clutching there while the other slid down the curve of Niko's back and came to a grip on his shoulder, thumb pressing in to muscle in massaging motions. It was the perfect balance of domination and affection, and it soon brought Niko over the edge.

He grit his teeth against a moan as he felt Zevran's thrusts becoming erratic. Both of his hands came back to Niko's hips, taking a bruising hold as the unbearable pleasure buzzed in his abdomen, overwhelming his senses until it spilled over and an Antivan swear escaped from behind clenched teeth.

They were both panting heavily, sweat-slicked bodies pressed together. Zevran's forehead fell to Niko's shoulder and the Warden smiled as he felt the heavy rise and fall of Zevran's heaving chest against his back.

The assassin dropped a kiss on Niko's shoulder before pulling out of him. Niko laid down on his back and Zevran cleaned them up.

Now that it was over, the exhaustion of the day's trek set in again for both of them. While Zevran was unsure about staying in the Warden's tent, his mind was made up for him when Niko pulled him down to lie beside him. He chuckled softly, eyes drooping as his head hit the soft pillow, and he rolled Niko over to spoon him close. He fell asleep breathing in the earthy, masculine scent of the massage oil clinging to the Warden's skin.


	11. Cursed Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Werewolves, Dalish, and the morning after talk, oh my!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: T

Niko woke up pressed against Zevran's chest, too warm for the early autumn morning. He heard something strange outside the tent, some kind of scratching and it took him a moment to realize it was his mabari digging at the ground close by.

Too close actually.

He rubbed his eyes and felt Zevran shift behind him. The assassin was already awake, now sitting up and staring drowsily at the flap of the tent where the sound was coming from.

"I don't know if that will work, but thanks for trying. I really  _really_  don't want to go in there."

That was Alistair.

He was answered with a gleeful bark from Gideon.

"I believe we may have overslept," Zevran commented while Niko stifled a groan.

The amount of light filtering into the tent told Niko that he was right.

"Oh. Are you two finally awake in there?" Alistair spoke up, sounding a bit awkward as he stood just outside the tent. "Good. None of us wanted to wake you. Unfortunately, I drew the short stick."

Niko sighed. "We'll be right out."

He sat up and rifled through their discarded clothing, ready to get back to reality. Zevran, however, was content to lie back and just watch Niko get dressed for the moment, a smug little smirk on his face.

"See? I knew this would happen eventually. I should have warned you right from the moment you refused to kill me. It was inevitable."

Niko pulled his tunic over his head and glanced back at Zevran, raising an eyebrow at him. "And here I thought I seduced you."

"O-ho!" Zevran grinned and finally sat up. "Such subtlety in your seductive charms that I was not even aware of them. A work of art in motion perhaps?" He rubbed his chin, appraising Niko, who turned to face Zevran with a haughty look of his own. And he threw Zevran's shirt at him.

They began taking down the tent together, while the others were mostly already packed up and now working on breakfast. They received a few curious glances from Leliana and Morrigan, and Niko guessed that what had happened between Zevran and him was probably obvious.

Had they been too loud last night? Or had someone peeked in to wake him and found them sleeping next to each other? He ignored those thoughts and the embarrassed blush that crept up his skin. He didn't want to get stuck on worrying what the others might think or say, and he wasn't sure what sleeping with Zevran might mean, if it would lose him respect among his companions perhaps. He hadn't considered that possibility at all last night actually. It just felt… inevitable, as Zevran put it. The flirting and the heated kiss back at the castle, it all led up to last night.

With the risen sun high above them, the two elves worked together to roll up the tent before standing to face each other.

"So then," Zevran spoke up again, going for casual laced with serious inquiry to voice what was on both of their minds. "As the Priestess so famously said to the handsome actor… what now?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing," Niko admitted.

Zevran crossed his arms and his tone took on a note of businesslike calm. "Allow me to make it simple for you, my Grey Warden. What comes next is entirely up to you." When Niko's eyes narrowed at being saddled with all the decision-making yet again, Zevran went on to explain himself. "I was raised to take my pleasures where they could be found, for they do not come often. I shall ask nothing more of you than you are willing to give."

Niko looked to Zevran's eyes to see the assassin was watching him intently, though he was unable to read any emotion from the expression.

He didn't like this. Zevran wasn't exactly putting his cards on the table, so to speak. How was Niko supposed to know if there were any feelings involved here? He assumed there wasn't; this was just for fun. Maybe he was supposed to assume that. As for his own feelings… he wasn't sure. Perhaps Zevran wasn't either.

He decided leaving his options open would be the best way to go, as he certainly wasn't against a repeat of last night.

"Sounds fine by me."

Zevran grinned again. "I must admit, we have come very far from those early days when I tried to kill you and you decided not to kill me. Fate is such a tricky whore, isn't she?"

Niko smiled and shook his head at the almost philosophical air to Zevran's question. "That she is."

\---

They did not find Sten's sword. But within the trees just beyond Calenhad's docks, among wolf-torn scraps, thick bones, and other putrid remains… there was a lead. A single scavenger rummaging through the worthless heaps told them he learned of these "picking grounds" from a guy named Faryn, who likely already made off with anything of value, including Sten's sword. They were told he would probably be in Orzammar.

Unfortunately they were headed in the opposite direction, and they weren't going to backtrack off their planned route now. So all they could do was hope Faryn would still be there later.

They ran into the usual along the way to eastern Ferelden; darkspawn, bandits, and beasties. They ran into the not-so-usual as well though. Not far from Lake Calenhad, they travelled into Bann Loren's lands where they found the Bann's men attacking one of King Cailan's honor guard. Before the man died, he managed to tell Niko and Alistair of important documents that were hidden back at Ostagar. It was one more reason for them to return now. After they left Redcliffe, Niko had promised Morrigan he would go back to, well… kill her mother.

He wasn't keen on the idea. After all, Flemeth had been the one to save him and Alistair. He was also trying to ignore the part of him that wondered if Morrigan was just trying to get him to do her dirty work for some scheme. But she had seemed genuinely distraught over what she had read in Flemeth's book; he couldn't blame her after she told him what it said. So it seemed they would be heading south after their business in the Brecilian forest.

The wandering elves proved very difficult to find, however. They spent days trekking through the outskirts, finding nothing but a few stray wolves and one bear that they managed to avoid. Though with each step, Niko felt eyes on him. The others felt it, too.

It perhaps would have been easier to see if anyone was watching them if the forest weren't so dense, filled with the thickest, green pines and rising oaks. Autumn had taken hold, painting many of the trees in fiery shades, though the leaves had not yet all died and fallen away.

Niko knew the Dalish were out there. Many of his kin back home thought they were a myth, though others believed enough to seek out the Dalish themselves, hoping for a freer life. Niko had even considered doing the same when he was a bit younger, though he had never seriously considered it. He loved his family too much, and there were plenty of things about the Alienage that he liked despite his wish to leave it. Whether or not the Dalish truly existed mattered little to Niko until the day he held the treaty requesting their aid in a Blight. It was proof enough for him. Though it didn't really matter whether or not he believed if they couldn't find a clan in Ferelden.

Their search was nearly a week in progress when they were met on the path by a fair-haired elven woman. She was flanked by two other elves, all three of them dressed in leathers and armed with bows or swords. They were obviously waiting for the group. Evidently, they had a much easier time tracking Niko and his companions than they'd had at finding the Dalish.

"Hold, outsider," the woman said, raising her hand in a halting gesture. Her eyes fell to Niko, who preceded the party. "You may be one of my kind, but you are not Dalish. Why are you here?"

Niko glanced between the other elves, his gaze lingering briefly on the ornate tattoos decorating their faces.

So these were the Dalish… He could think of several people back home who would never ever believe he was seeing this.

"I have business with your leader actually," he informed.

"What business is that?" the Dalish woman asked, her tone marginally sharper than the businesslike cool she had met them with.

Niko warily eyed the archer in the back, wondering how fast his draw was.

He doubted the Dalish would turn them in to Teryn Loghain or Arl Howe, though. They didn't exactly play well with humans from what he'd heard of them. So he told her the truth. "I'm a Grey Warden."

The woman seemed to take pause, raising her chin to peer downward at him, her eyes shining with what looked to be some amount of interest. "That is not a lie many would attempt," she mused. "I will bring you to the Keeper then, and he will decide if your business is worthwhile."

\---

Along with Alistair, Zevran, and Morrigan, Niko soon found himself venturing deeper into the Brecilian forest than even the Dalish dared to go. They had to if they were going to have the elves on their side.

"Of course the werewolves just  _had_  to attack the Dalish during a Blight, didn't they?" Niko complained as the four of them approached a rickety bridge above a narrow waterfall.

"Just like the Circle Tower had to go and get overrun with demons and abominations, too." Alistair chimed in. "Perhaps all the tunnels will just collapse when we get to Orzammar."

"It wouldn't surprise me in the least," Niko grumbled. As they walked along the wooden boards, water rushing beneath them, they passed a strange teal-colored lantern hung upon a short tree. He supposed maybe the Dalish had put it there, but everyone in the clan was forbidden to enter the forest by Keeper Zathrian. The ferns beneath were basking in witch light, giving them an eerie glow. They all gave it a suspicious glance as they passed before turning their attention to the haunted forest ahead of them.

They had to fight a few wolves not far in. One of them was infected with Blight corruption. It didn't take much longer to find the darkspawn after that; a couple of hurlocks and an ogre.

They didn't come across any werewolves yet though.

Niko was a bit ahead of the others when Alistair and Morrigan started bickering again. He was kind of grateful that he couldn't quite make out what they were saying. Zevran perhaps had the same idea when he walked ahead and sidled up next to Niko.

They looked to each other, a companionable smile settling on Zevran's face that Niko returned.

They hadn't spoken much back at the Dalish camp. Niko had been busy gathering supplies and speaking to a few members of the clan. It had been strange interacting with the Dalish. There were plenty of warm welcomes, though it was meshed with outright confusion and unintentional judgment towards him for being an elf from one of the shemlen cities. By the time they headed into the forest, Niko was only glad to deal with werewolves instead of more members of the Dalish clan. He was tired of the condescension caked in politeness.

He wasn't sure what Zevran had thought of all of it. The only comment the Antivan had made was when they had walked into the camp, saying that forests were filthy and that he considered himself more of a city boy.

"What do you think of the Dalish?" he asked the tattooed elf.

"I know little enough of the Dalish other than the fact that my mother was one. Or so I was told." Zevran shrugged. "She had fallen in love with an elven woodcutter and accompanied him back to the city, leaving her clan behind for good. And there, of course, the woodcutter died of some filthy disease and my mother was forced into prostitution to pay off his debts. Oldest tale in the book."

Niko frowned and searched for an appropriate response to that. "Was the woodcutter your father?"

"How should I know? My mother was a whore, as you'll recall. None of the other whorehouse boys knew their fathers. I didn't know my mother either, of course. She died giving birth to me. My first victim, as it were." He tried to give a cynical smile, but it came out as more of a wince. "We were all raised communally by the whores. It was a happy enough existence, ignoring the occasional beating, until eventually I was sold to the Crows. I brought a good price, so I hear."

Niko looked to him while silence fell upon them for the moment, the quiet broken only by their companions' snippy voices behind them. "I'm sorry, Zev."

"That is very kind of you to say, but it is not necessary," Zevran responded immediately to what he thought was pity. Looking up at Niko, though, it was empathy that he saw. "It could have been much worse. Shall I tell you about what happened to the other whorehouse boys who did not fetch a decent price with the Crows?" He caught Niko's gaze. "Surely your life has not been so idyllic? People like you and I are not the product of happy lives of contentment after all."

"…You can say that again," Niko replied, pulling his eyes away. He wondered if that had been Zevran's way of inviting him to share more, but he didn't really want to talk about his own childhood at this very moment.

Zevran sighed. "My original point is that my mother's Dalish nature was always a point of fascination for me. Through all the years of my Crow training, the one thing of my mother's that I possessed was a pair of gloves. They were of Dalish make, I knew that much, and beautiful. I had to keep them hidden, of course, as we were not allowed such things. Eventually they were discovered and I never saw them again."

"So you don't think of yourself as Dalish at all?"

"Not at all. I think of myself as Antivan." He smirked. "Still, that did not stop me from running off to join a clan when it drew near Antiva City once. Naturally the reality did not live up at all to the fantasies I had constructed as a boy, staring at those gloves. But such is life."

"You're not even listening to me," Alistair said indignantly behind them. Both elves turned to see Alistair glaring at the dark-haired witch.

"My, you are smarter than you look after all," she mocked.

"Don't you two get tired of irritating each other?" Niko asked.

They both quieted down, though Niko was pretty sure he heard Alistair grumble something like "she started it". He watched Zevran collect elfroot and deathroot as they walked along. There was an abundant supply all around them, useful for potions and salves they could put together later.

It was eerily quiet for a forest; not enough birds or bees going about their business. Niko looked up when he heard the rush of a waterfall ahead, spilling out over a cliff wall. Another set of boards were laid out for them to cross. But as they neared, three dark figures dashed through the forestry on the other side, almost too fast for him to see. But they were definitely werewolves, he knew, even if he'd never seen one before. The shadows revealed only shaggy silhouettes and a resolute, wild gait. A chill ran up Niko's spine as the feral creatures, long-limbed and burly, sprinted right towards them. They all reached for their weapons, but paused when the werewolves stopped to stand on a patch of earth in the middle of the water… waiting for them.

Niko left his dagger sheathed, raising his hand to signal for his teammates to do the same. Then he stepped onto the bridge to cross towards the beasts, keeping guarded eyes on them. Standing at twice his height at least, they had big, barrel chests, and thick, matted hair sprouting along every swell of muscle.

They spoke, which was surprising. They also did not attack, which was even more surprising. Some threats were exchanged, but no blood was shed. When the three werewolves retreated back into the forest, Niko was left puzzled. These were not exactly the untamed beasts he had expected.

It didn't matter though. He had to find a cure so the Dalish could heal their infected and join with the army against the Blight. And the cure laid within Witherfang.

The sun was setting by the time they made it into the eastern part of the forest, so they decided to rest rather than get lost in the dark.

Dinner was bread and berries from their packs and the rabbit Morrigan caught, cooked over a small fire she had put together almost all on her own after the rest of them failed to catch a spark. They were all rather grateful she had so much experience living in deep woods… and could magically set fire to a stack of logs.

They slept in shifts. A forest with werewolves and tears in the Fade was too dangerous a place to let their guards drop.

Zevran woke to a sharp stab in the ass, courtesy of Morrigan's wooden staff.

"Your turn," she chirped whilst walking over to her own bedroll on the opposite side of the fire.

Zevran rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stood, thinking of a witty retort too late, as Morrigan was already drifting off. His eyes scanned the camp to see Alistair splayed out on the ground snoring, and Niko tucked soundly in his bedroll. Zevran took up a station under the low-hanging branches of a tree, piercing the tips of his daggers into the ground, within easy reach of where he sat at the base.

The cold, still, autumn air kept him alert as the night passed before him uneventfully. He watched a couple of halla wander into a nearby clearing, their white coats and spiraling horns almost luminous under the pure shine of the moon. One lifted its head and took notice of Zevran, the animal's large eyes boring into the elf's golden stare.

A sudden noise startled the halla and they darted off back into the trees while Zevran looked to where the sound was coming from. He saw Niko thrashing a bit in his bedroll, teeth clenched and head tossing back and forth in his sleep. He continued to observe the Warden for a moment, unsure if he should wake him from the nightmare.

_All Niko could see was filth. The lands were covered by darkspawn marching over the hills and plains in droves, like swarms of roaches scattering the nation. And above the sea of darkspawn and blighted soil was an evil entity, the archdemon soaring and sounding a deafening roar._

He awoke with a gasp, breathing in crisp, cold air.

The debris and the chaos were gone, replaced with a crackling fire and the shock of cold sweat. Opening his eyes, the lingering dread slowly washed away as he counted the stars. Niko had never seen so many dotting the sky at once, framed by great spruce trees towering high above like sentinels guarding him through the night. He stared up at the heavenly scene until the nightmare was forgotten; until all that remained was the chill on his skin and the scent of burning wood and elfroot around him.

Niko sat up, rubbing a sore spot in his shoulder where he apparently slept on a rock. That's when he felt eyes on him, and he glanced to the left to see Zevran watching him from under the shadows of a low tree limb.

"Bad dreams?" came the assassin's soothing voice in hushed tones.

Niko stared at him a moment and decided not to answer right away. Instead he stood up, ignoring the chill of Harvestmere as he went to sit beside Zevran.

"Just more darkspawn nightmares," he whispered.

"You have those quite a bit," Zevran observed.

"Alistair says they can be worse for those that join during a Blight."

"Hm." Zevran didn't ask about the nightmares. He'd tried before when he began to notice them, but Niko would only tell him that it was part of being a Grey Warden, that it had to do with their connection to the darkspawn. It was also a "trade secret" of sorts, so he couldn't go blathering about it.

"I'm fine," Niko promised.

And he honestly sounded fine, Zevran noted. The stress that came with leading them all against the Blight seemed to have lessened a bit for Niko over the last few days, and they'd all taken notice. Zevran was cocky, and he'd be the first to admit to such, but he wasn't sure he could claim responsibility for this particular change in their leader. And yet he couldn't think of anything that could have spurred it besides the new...  _developments_  in their relationship.

"Of course, my dear Warden." Zevran smiled as he curled an arm around Niko's waist. "So you've come to keep me company on my watch?"

Niko nodded and Zevran's smile turned into a grin.

"Ah good. I have a question for you then." He turned his head a bit to hold Niko's gaze, playfulness settling just beneath his neutral features. "How well versed are you in poetry? Antivan poetry, specifically."

Niko shook his head. "I know nothing of poetry," he admitted.

"Trust me. You'll know even less after I tell you this." Niko could heard the mirth beneath Zevran's words and it made him smile. "It was recited to me, as I recall, by a rather wealthy target of mine." The assassin cleared his throat and went on to retell it, doing his best to deliver the lines with feeling. "The symphony I see in thee, it whispers songs to me. Songs of hot breath upon my neck. Songs of soft grunts by my head. Songs of hands on muscled back. Songs of thee… come to my bed."

He grinned wickedly at the end and Niko's eyebrows rose in surprise. Though it wasn't the best poem (even he knew that), it managed to bring forth imagery of that first night with Zevran anyway. And for that reason, he really liked it.

"What is that?" He finally asked after a moment of silence, a grin spreading across his face. "Sex poetry?"

"Psh. So she claimed," Zevran smirked and glanced away to stare ahead into the forest. "She was trying to seduce me, you see, and somehow thought that this would actually convince me to spare her." The fingers curled around Niko's waist had started to move, tracing lightly over the skin under the Warden's long-sleeved tunic. "I had sex with her anyway, but that goes without saying. She still had to die. The poem was amusing at the time, however, and thus I've always remembered it."

"So you thought to seduce  _me_  with it?" Niko inquired with a smirk of his own.

"Hmm now that is a thought, isn't it?" Zevran grinned and looked to Niko again, drawing him a bit closer. "Would it work?"

"It might," Niko teased.

"I'll have to keep that in mind. My usual methods of seduction are more direct," he replied. "Here I thought you might be cheered up by some naughty poetry. You simply look so… grim." He smiled. "Such an unflattering expression for such a handsome face."

"You think I'm handsome do you?" Niko only smirked more.

"Ah who wouldn't?" Zevran's eyes glinted with mischief and charm. "Burn me in the Chantry if you must, but you are a man to stoke the lust in women and other men alike." He leaned in, lips teasingly close to Niko's for a moment before pulling away. "But surely you know this and you are playing with me."

Niko chuckled under his breath and leaned in closer to the other elf.

"Me," Zevran went on. "I tend to make the best of whatever situation I find myself in, stealing what moments I can. It's served me well most days. You might learn to do the same."

Niko rolled his eyes fondly at Zevran's words.  _Stealing moments_. What else did Zevran think he was doing here sitting with him when he could be sleeping instead?

"I think I do the same actually," he replied, resting his head on Zevran's shoulder.

"Oh? Then I learn something new about you every day."

They sat in silence for a few moments, relaxing in the warmth they could provide one another. Unknown to the Warden, Zevran was going through a debate in his head, wondering if he should have told that awful poem, or mentioned that he'd slept with his target before killing her in cold blood. He had told such tales before, of course. Though now he wondered if admitting to murdering his targets after getting in to bed with them was wise, considering the Warden  _had_  been a target of his and now they were sleeping together. He was trying to maintain Niko's trust, not plant seeds of doubt. The others still sometimes openly voiced their reservations about Zevran, questioning his intentions and loyalties.

But, he told himself, Niko had to accept this part of him. His past could not be erased and, truthfully, Zevran was not ashamed of it. Not most of it anyway, no.

He had no intentions of harming the Warden or any of the others. Niko seemed to believe that though, and that was how Zevran wanted it to remain. This was not a mission for the Crows anymore. He was free of them. And he had Niko to thank for that.

He glanced down at the Warden, who continued to let his head rest on Zevran's shoulder. The assassin closed his eyes a moment, letting fingers that rested against Niko's side roam gently over his smooth, tan skin.

The Warden had to know this was not a trick, Zevran told himself. Cuddling under a tree with his target had never been part of his schemes. That thought alone bothered Zevran some. This was actually quite unfamiliar territory for him, not something he'd normally do with someone, not with a lover or anyone.

While he was having this internal struggle and Niko was almost drifting off to sleep where he was, they both heard something strange a few yards off. Listening carefully, they could hear what sounded like heavy dragging along the soil, accompanied by shallow, pained breaths and whines, like a dog's.

They stood, both of them grabbing their daggers before creeping closer to investigate.

Following a narrow dirt path through some trees, the two of them both froze when they saw what was making the noise.

A werewolf was dragging itself along the path, belly to the ground and back muscles bunched in pain. There didn't appear to be any injuries, but the creature collapsed with breathy, aching whines. Large eyes turned on them, shining under the moonlight with magic and tears… staring… pleading.

"P-please… help…" the beast called to them both, each word a struggle. "Listen… I am not… the mindless beast I appear to be…"

They approached cautiously, though Niko couldn't help but feel sorrow for the werewolf. "What happened to you?" It was then that he noticed the fabric wrapped around the werewolf's neck. It appeared to be a scarf, brown with a pattern that reminded him of the Dalish tattoos.

"They… I am cursed… turned into this creature. The curse, it… it burns in me!" The creature yelled in pain as it struggled to rise to a kneeling position before them. "I… fled into the forest. The werewolves, they… took me in. But I had to return. I had to!"

"Careful." They heard Alistair behind them and turned to see he and Morrigan approaching, armed, though still wearing their night clothes. "The werewolves might have laid a trap for us, or something. You never know."

Niko turned back to face the werewolf, who looked up at them all with pain etched into every feature. Unblinking, it gazed upon the new humans for a long moment before settling mournful eyes on Niko.

"You are… an elf." The creature's sentence broke off in a high pitch, obviously holding back pain and sadness. It broke Niko's heart. "But not one of the Dalish. I was, until my… change." The werewolf whimpered and broke off into strained speech again "Have you… seen my clan?"

"Your keeper, Zathrian, is the one who sent us here," Niko answered.

"The keeper sent you? Then… you seek Witherfang," the creature realized, ducking its head.

"I do. Have you seen him?" Niko asked.

"I have, but…" It lifted its head to look at him again. "It is not what you think. But… there is no time to explain. You must listen…" The creature groaned and tried to ignore the pain so it could continue speaking. "My name is Danyla."

Niko's eyes widened in recognition, recalling that he had met an elf back at the Dalish camp looking for his wife, whose name was Danyla. He remembered the man as one of the few who didn't treat him like he wasn't elf enough for them.

"My husband… He is called Athras. Please, you must… bring him a message." The creature huffed as the burn of the curse grew more difficult to withstand. "The scarf I wear… bring it to him. Tell him I love him…" She whimpered. "Tell him… I am dead and with the gods. I beg you…"

"I spoke to Athras," Niko told her. "He worries about you."

"I want him to be at peace," she begged. "He is a good man. Please, do not… let him suffer thinking of me." She choked and her body writhed. "Ah! The pain! The curse… is fire in my blood! Please! End it for me! End it quickly!"

"I will," Niko promised, raising his dagger.

Danyla stood, bulky body hunched over unsteady legs.

"Gods bless you," were her last words as the long blade of the dagger sank into her heart.

The four of them stood back as she dropped with a pained grunt, blood pooling out beneath her body. Niko stepped forward and unwrapped the tattered scarf from around her neck, now soaked red.

"She said that she saw Witherfang," Niko spoke as he carefully folded the fabric. He looked up to gauge his companions' thoughtful expressions. "But it's not what we think…?"


	12. Forces of Nature

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The forest itself is a formidable foe, even without the werewolves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longest chapter so far!
> 
> Chapter Rating: T
> 
> Chapter Warning: Mentions of rape

Plenty of theories about the werewolves, Witherfang, and the curse were tossed around the next morning as they continued their trek through the Brecilian forest. There was also plenty of speculation on how the Veil was torn in the forest in the first place. But none of them were sure.

"These werewolves are different, though," Alistair noted after Morrigan told a story of werewolves in the Korcari Wilds.

"They are still attacking us," Niko pointed out.

Indeed, though the werewolf identifying itself as Swiftrunner and his two companions had not attacked earlier, plenty of other werewolves they had come across had tried to kill them.

"I know," Alistair continued. "I just get the feeling that there is something strange going on here."

Niko felt something grab his ankle, and he looked down to see thick roots winding their way out of the earth and up his leg, quickly spreading out as a wooden cage around him. The others had no time to help him out, as they were all attacked by great sylvans lumbering out of lines of trees towards them.

Behind his cage of twined and twisted roots, Niko could do nothing to aid his companions as they were struck by the long, heavy limbs of the crazed trees. Alistair and Zevran managed to hack one down with their blades, while Morrigan was caught in another sylvan's trap. While she blasted hers apart with a firebolt, Niko hacked pieces off his with a dagger to break through.

There were a lot of them, hiding amongst the regular trees and attacking when the party got close. Their forms were manipulated by whatever possessed them to attack in the first place; trunks split into walking limbs, branches bending with unnatural joints, long and sharp twig-like fingers at the ends. Their faces were warped, resembling a monster mask Niko had once made out of tree bark when he was little.

When all six of them were felled, the group hesitantly put their weapons away to move on, only to walk right into the path of another possessed tree…

Niko nearly collided with this one as it unfurled branchy arms with poise, towering over the two elves and two humans with an unthreatening stance.

Its deep voice rumbled to life along with its oaken body.

"Hrrrrm… what manner of beast be thee that comes before this elder tree?"

Niko stared up at it.

Talking golems, talking werewolves, and now… talking trees. He wondered when he'd stop being surprised by such things.

"You can't see me?" he asked the tree. "I'm an elf."

"Ahhh, yes, I remember thee. Long ago, the elves roamed free, their numbers few and passing fast, until one eve we saw their last."

Niko had to wonder at its words. How old must this creature be? What did it know of the elves of long ago and what happened to the forest?

"Allow me to welcome thee. I am called the Grand Oak, sometimes the Elder Tree. And unless though thinkst it far too soon, might I ask of thee a boon?"

"It… rhymes? Tis a rhyming tree," Morrigan voiced from behind Niko. The Warden was pretty certain he'd never heard her so perplexed. "One can only imagine what manner of spirit is involved here."

"I am an elder oak and nothing more," it responded. "Though once I dreamt of a time before, when I roamed the world and howled with pain, not of this world but twixt and twain… Perhaps I was a spirit then? A wandering thing drawn to this glen? But then that spirit joined with a tree; now a tree is all I be."

"Why do you speak in rhymes?" Niko asked, purely out of curiosity.

"I do not know. Why dost thou not? Thy words seem plan, a mundane lot. Perhaps a poet's soul in me… Does that make me a poet tree?"

Niko gave a thin smile, wincing as the Grand Oak chuckled. "Oh yes... I get it. But… you're not hostile like the other trees we ran into."

"Of the sylvans, this is true; they are quite mad, their virtues few. A spirit trapped within a tree, no mouth to scream or eyes to see. A cage of bark, a prison wood, a thing of rage where nature stood. So twisted sylvan they become, but I am not the same as some. I accept my oaken home, I feel no need to rage and roam."

"Can you tell me more about this forest?" Niko asked the Grand Oak.

"It was the elves who planted the seeds, raised the forest, saw to its needs. But that was all… so long ago. That they are dead is all I know."

"What made the forest like this?"

"A great war perhaps, I cannot tell. I was not here when it befell. But many deaths here, all the same, and with the deaths the spirits came. The spirits entered corpse and tree and most went mad as thou canst see. The forest had a spirit of its own, from back when its first seeds were sown. Perhaps she died of grief that day, or perhaps she simply went away. Or perhaps the weres are the ones to blame, for the day she left is the day they came."

"Weres?" Niko finally spoke up again. "Do you know where the werewolves are? Can you tell me where Witherfang is?"

"In the center of the forest the weres do dwell, or so go the tales my fellows tell. But they cannot be followed there; the forest doth protect the weres."

"Do you know how I can get to the center of the forest?"

"Perform the boon as I ask, and I will reward you for the task."

Niko nodded, crossing his arms to look up at the Elder Tree. There was always some favor to complete before anybody helped them. "What's the task?"

"I have but one desire, to solve a matter very dire. As I slept one early morn, a thief did come and steal my acorn."

Niko frowned. Such a simple thing. No assassination request? No helpless daughter to free from the clutches of evil? Just… "An acorn?"

"All I have is my being, my seed. Without it I am alone indeed. I cannot go and seek it out; yet I shall die if left without."

"Um… Alright."

"Go to the east to find this man. I shall await. Do what thou can."

The Elder Tree curled its branched limbs back into its still, graceful position, and the leaves on its fingers stretched out to conceal the warped wood of its face.

"An acorn?" Alistair asked with incredulity as they walked onward. "We have to look for a specific acorn in the forest?"

"Look, here is one now!" Zevran chimed in jovially, bending down to pick up a tiny acorn from the ground. "Mission accomplished!"

Niko smirked and shook his head. "Come on, it's never that easy. That Grand Oak would probably know it's not the same one."

"A squirrel could have taken it," Alistair griped. "It could be anywhere."

"The Tree said to look for a man in the east," Morrigan pointed out to him as if she were spelling it out to a child. "That is a rather specific hint, wouldn't you agree?"

"I suppose…"

"There's a camp ahead," Niko noted, breaking them away from their conversation.

It was a small camp, but a camp nonetheless; one small, dry tent and a few warm bedrolls around a campfire. Some amber leaves had fallen about the place, crunching under their boots as they inspected the set up. Though there were no signs of any campers - no packs or belongings – the fire was still smoking, a few embers left burning within. Niko felt the urge to stoke them and build up a fire, but he knew there was no point since they had to move on from here. How reluctant he was to do so…

"How odd," Morrigan commented as she glanced around with curiosity. "A camp with no campers, complete with fire and warm blankets. Rather inviting, would you not say?"

"It's also rather suspicious," Niko responded. "Who set it up?"

"Not the werewolves, surely," Zevran noted.

"Well let's look around," Niko suggested.

Morrigan went over to the tent, her eyes drooping shut as she searched within, but she reemerged with no clues or anything of value left behind.

While Alistair began lazily stoking the fire embers with a stick, Zevran and Niko took a look at the bedrolls set under a spruce tree. The Warden felt his head swimming as he stared at the blankets, his mind too hazy to search them as he intended. The weight of their travels settled heavy on his body and he wanted nothing more than to let his eyes close.

"You know, I feel as if I could sleep for days. Do you feel it?" Zevran asked him, kneeling next to the bedroll as he too was also unable to bring himself to do anything but sit about. "It's… not quite right."

"I feel it, too." Niko answered. "We need to stay awake."

Though it took every ounce of willpower and reasoning he had, Niko reluctantly stepped away from the bedroll.

Alistair continued to unthinkingly stoke the fire pit. Niko stood beside him, staring at the glowing embers as they caught sparks and slowly ebbed out delicate flames. It was spellbinding, watching the wisps of fire dance and lull him into relaxation.

"Can you feel the power here?" Niko asked as Zevran yawned behind him. "What is this?"

The last word barely escaped his lips before darkness descended upon him, his body giving in to the need for sleep…

He awoke with the most awful headache, eyes widening as he felt the magic drifting off of his body in waves of filth. It felt like death rolling over him and receding. Face flat in the frosted autumn grass, the campsite was no longer warm and welcoming, but cold and unnerving. As the pain in his head dulled, he let his eyes focus passed the mist in front of him and found himself staring at a pile of old bones.

Niko gasped and pushed himself up off the ground. Morrigan was at his side, and the others were slowly rising to their feet as well.

"What happened?" Alistair groaned.

"You mean while you all slept and I saved your lives?" Morrigan asked before explaining. "A hungry spirit luring those who pass to their rest… and their doom." She gestured to the skeletal remains around them, centuries in the making. "One might wonder how it learned such a trick. No matter. It shall prey on no one else."

"Thank you, Morrigan," Niko said. He gave the campsite one last look, a shiver running down his spine as he peered at the slumbering bones, perhaps still unaware they were ever tricked into eternal sleep. Ghosts wandering the haunted forest... He tried not to think of how close he had been to slipping so easily into death right beside them. "Let's move on."

\---

They continued to pass through the woods as intruders, the forest itself working against them. They were never certain if they were headed in the right direction or just getting lost, especially when the fog grew so dense that they could barely see each other.

In the eastern part of the forest, they found the acorn with an old hermit, a mage living deep in the woods. He was not dissimilar to Flemeth in that way, though perhaps more unstable. After a confusing game made of questions and answers, they managed a trade and were now heading back to the Grand Oak with its acorn.

Since none of them had remembered exactly where the Elder tree was planted, they were a bit startled when the tree next to them began to move and shake free of its inert position.

"My acorn is still gone, so I pray to thee… hast thou any news for me?"

"Is this your acorn?" Niko asked, producing the item from his pack.

"My joy soars to new heights, indeed! I am reunited with my seed!" The Grand Oak reached down to gently grasp the acorn, tucking it away in its branches. It then brought out a long piece of wood, which it extended to Niko. "As promised, here it be. I hope its magic pleases thee. Keep this branch of mine with thee, and pass throughout the forest free."

Niko examined what looked to be a wooden staff, magic thrumming beneath his touch. He handed it to Morrigan.

"I wish thee well, my mortal friend," the Elder Tree went on. "Thou brought my sadness to an end. May the sunlight find you, thy days be long, thy winters kind, and thy roots be strong."

A large acorn rested against a crook in one of the branches as the Elder Tree returned to its whimsical pose. They left it alone, heading back into the deeper end of the forest, back to where they encountered the thick fog that got them turned around.

With the Elder Tree's branch, the mist seemed easier to navigate through, the path visible under thin tendrils of fog at their feet.

As they walked through, Niko edged up next to Zevran, a sneaky smirk on his face. "You know, that Grand Oak was rather good at reciting poetry."

Zevran blinked in surprise for a moment, before smiling playfully at Niko. "What are you saying, my dear Warden, you like that shrub's poetry better than mine? You wound me."

"Well I don't know," Niko teased. "I mean it was good… but it wasn't sex poetry."

"Yes it did lack that particular quality, I noticed." Zevran chuckled. "Ah, my Warden, I have seen such marvelous things while accompanying you. Talking trees! Who knew?"

Niko smiled, and as they passed under a crumbling archway, he turned his eye to the ruins ahead.

There were werewolves there, keeping guard. Their fur bristled as Niko and his companions approached.

"The forest has not been vigilant enough. Still you come," the werewolf known as Swiftrunner snarled. "You are stronger than we could have anticipated. The Dalish chose well. But you do not belong here, outsider. Leave this place!"

"I'm not going anywhere without Witherfang's heart," Niko swore.

At these words, Swiftrunner's body tensed in anger, barred teeth clenching tighter as he growled. "You are sent by the treacherous Dalish to kill Witherfang! I will not stand by and allow that to happen!"

"Why do you call the Dalish treacherous? You attacked them," Niko pointed out.

"And they deserved no less!" Swiftrunner snarled. "You are an intruder in our home! You come to kill, as all your kind do! We have learned this lesson well." As he spoke, the other werewolves stepped closer, readying to fight. "Here Witherfang protects us. Here we learn our names and are beloved! We will defend Witherfang and this place with our lives!"

Four werewolves attacked at once, Swiftrunner going straight for Niko. He raised his longsword just in time to avoid the long-fingered swipe of Swiftrunner's hand. The werewolves had brute strength on them, but they had armor, weapons, and spell magic.

But as Niko turned to slice open Swiftrunner, he was struck by an impressive weight and knocked to the ground. With his companions rushing to his side, the Warden pushed himself up to see a white wolf not a foot in front of him, giving him a low growl and a look of warning.

Witherfang.

At the sound of the white wolf's howl, Niko stood to see all the werewolves retreating further into the ruins along with Witherfang.

\---

The ruin was a curiosity in itself. It was distinctly elven, yet… not. Many of the rooms were enormous cathedrals, with broken ceilings where sunlight and gnarled, thick roots jutted through the beautiful stonework.

They were far from sunlight now, deep within the ruins. They had to be nearing the werewolves' lair, the number of beasts growing with each collapsing hallway they passed through. They'd just fought their way through a number of ghosts, horrors, and the walking dead. So when they entered a dark room, empty of enemies, everyone grew suspicious.

Just as Niko spotted three claw traps ahead, they were attacked. From the doorway on the end, werewolves came. They seemed to leap from the shadows as well, catching them off guard. Niko was fighting off two at once as he heard Alistair yell out in pain. He tried to look, but one dark-haired werewolf snapped its jaws at his face. Niko raised his blade to catch the beast's open mouth with it, driving one sharp edge forward into its throat. Bright red blood spurted as the animal whined in agony and jumped away. The Warden delivered a final blow and turned to race over to Alistair side. Zevran was already there, stabbing two blades into the back of a werewolf that had its jaws sunken into Alistair's shoulder; a weak point in his armor where the rivets were.

Niko only caught a glimpse of Alistair bloody, shredded flesh before turning to face the rest of the werewolves with Morrigan. They covered Zevran while he applied healing salves and bandages to Alistair's wound. Another wolf seemed to jump right out of the dark corners of the ruin, on Niko's left flank. He turned in time to swipe his blades upward, arching the sword and dagger across the beast's belly. Morrigan had another one struck dead from a lightning bolt, and that seemed to be the last of them here.

Morrigan went over to kneel beside Alistair, wordlessly applying what she knew of healing magic to his wound.

"A-am I going to turn into a werewolf now!?" Alistair panicked, trying to get a look at his injury.

"Hold still, you buffoon!" Morrigan scolded while keeping her hands poised over the wound, working her magic over it.

"That tickles…" Alistair murmured his acknowledgment. He frowned deeply as he looked to his fellow Grey Warden. "We have absolutely got to cure this curse."

"You might not turn," Niko told him. "Zathrian said it wasn't a definite outcome."

"So I might not turn into a raging beast. That's comforting."

"Since you are so verbose at the moment, dear Alistair, might we assume you are alright?" Zevran asked. "Aside from your new werewolf curse, that is."

Alistair glared a little as he stood up. "If I do turn into a werewolf, I'll be sure to eat you first, Zevran."

"Aha! You flatter me, ser."

"Let's keep going," Niko interrupted. "I think we're close."

Indeed, they were close. One of the werewolves, a gatekeeper, who had signaled the party's intrusion into the ruin met them in the next room. He was flanked by two others of his kind, snarling at Niko and his companions as they entered.

"Stop! Brothers and sisters, be at ease!" The gatekeeper told the werewolves at his sides before turning his attention back to the intruders in his home. "We do not wish any more of our people hurt. I ask you this now, outsider: are you willing to parley?"

Niko stood tense, his hand gripping the hilt of his weapon, though it was lowered for the moment. "We're talking now, aren't we? So talk."

"Not with me," the werewolf explained. "I have been sent to you on behalf of the Lady. She believes that you may not be aware of everything that you should be."

"Is that so?" Niko asked, suspicious of their intentions. Perhaps this was a trap to get them into the lair where a greater number of werewolves would be waiting for an ambush. But they'd been running through these ruins with the intent of getting into the lair anyway.

"She means you no harm," the gatekeeper assured, "Provided your willingness to parley in peace is an honest one."

"If you were willing to talk, why didn't you earlier?" Niko asked.

"Swiftrunner did not think it would matter. The Lady disagrees, and since you have forced your way this far, we must acquiesce to her wishes."

So they were scared, Niko decided. This offer came because they knew now that he and his companions were strong enough to take them all out. But perhaps it was also true that there were things he did not know, things he should know.

"Very well. I will parley."

"Follow me. But I warn you," the werewolf growled. "If you break your promise and harm her, I will come back from the Fade itself to see you pay."

Niko nodded, and the werewolf waited until their weapons were fully sheathed before turning its back on them to lead the way forward.

They would all be lying if they claimed that they were not at all afraid as they stepped into the lair. Lines of infuriated werewolves flanked them on either side. There was not a tremendous amount of them, but they came as close as they dared, snapping and snarling at Niko's party when passed by.

But at the center of the room there stood a woman – not quite a woman, though. With eyes as black as her long hair, this was a creature as wild and beautiful as nature itself. Pale green skin was unclothed, her body veiled only in thin vines snaking up her thighs to her chest. Beside her, Swiftrunner snarled and bared his teeth until she reached out one long root-like finger to caress his fur in the gentlest touch, calming the enraged werewolf into a kneeling stance.

He didn't rise again until the Lady turned to face her guests.

"I bid you welcome, mortal. I am the Lady of the Forest."

Niko faltered, realizing the full blackness of her eyes were trained on him. He'd seen many things that were difficult to believe on this journey; dragons, sacred ashes, ghosts, and horrors. But the Lady of the Forest surpassed them all.

Still, he told himself, he had business to do here.

"What did you want to talk about?" he asked instead of one of the million other questions pressing on his curious mind.

"No doubt you have questions, mortal," she said as if reading his mind. Perhaps she could. "There are things that Zathrian has not told you."

"Is that so? Such as?" Niko asked. It wasn't a surprising statement really. There had been something suspicious about Zathrian, especially in how his clan spoke of his abnormal lifespan. He definitely had secrets; that had seemed so from the start. But what were they?

"It was Zathrian who created the curse that these creatures suffer," the Lady informed them. "The same curse that Zathrian's own people now suffer. Centuries ago, when the Dalish first came to this land, a tribe of humans lived close to this forest. They sought to drive the Dalish away. Zathrian was a young man then. He had a son and daughter he loved greatly, and while out hunting the human tribe captured them both."

It was Swiftrunner who picked up the story from there, body tensing as black lips pulled back over clenched fangs. "The humans," he growled uneasily. "…tortured the boy, killed him. The girl they raped and left for dead. The Dalish found her, but she learned later she was… with child. She… killed herself."

"That's horrible," Niko said, his words catching on a throat suddenly turned dry. He couldn't help but think of the girls at his wedding. There was no knowing how badly Vaughn would have left Shianni if there hadn't been intervention. The thought alone stirred his anger. "They deserved what they got."

The Lady's face stilled for the moment. Her face betrayed no emotion, yet her quiet seemed to speak levels of ire and sorrow before she uttered a word. "Indeed they did."

"Zathrian came to this ruin and summoned a terrible spirit, binding it to the body of a great wolf," Swiftrunner went on. "So Witherfang came to be. Witherfang hunted the humans of the tribe. Many were killed, but others were cursed by his blood, becoming twisted and savage creatures…"

"Twisted and savage as Witherfang himself is," the Lady commented. Her tone held a small amount of disdain, and… shame? "They were driven into the forest. When the human tribe finally left for good, their cursed brethren remained, pitiful and mindless animals."

"Until I found you, my lady." Swiftrunenr bowed to her. "You gave me peace."

"I showed Swiftrunner that there was another side to his bestial nature. I soothed his rage, and his humanity emerged. And he brought others to me."

"So you ambushed the Dalish for revenge?" Niko asked, arms crossing over his chest. He was having a hard time feeling sympathy for them after that story.

"In part," the Lady replied stiffly, almost frowning. "We seek to end the curse. The crimes committed against Zathrian's children were grave, but they were committed centuries ago by those who are long dead."

Oh.

Niko glanced to the werewolves standing behind the Lady, to Swiftrunner, and to all the rest in the room. He'd been angered by the story, about how Zathrian's children were treated. But… these people had no part in the rape and torture. They were cursed, and that was all they were.

"Word was sent to Zathrian every time the landships passed this way, asking him to come, but he has always ignored us. We will no longer be denied."

Swiftrunner growled, shoulders hunching in an aggressive stance. "We spread the curse to his people! So he must end the curse to save them!"

"Please mortal," the Lady pleaded. "You must go to him. Bring him here. If he sees these creatures, hears their plight… surely he will agree to end the curse!"

Niko shook his head, almost grieving for her faith in the virtue of others. "I think he just wishes to cure his own people, nothing else."

Swiftrunner's hackles rose, seeming to agree. "He will never break the curse, my lady! He will never allow it! You know this!"

"We… cannot know that," she replied, a bit of doubt hanging onto her words. "Surely his rage does not run so deep he would endanger his own clan!"

Niko only frowned more. He knew of rage like Zathrian's. He'd felt it long passed the moment he severed Vaughan's head from his body. The first taste of blood only fuels the thirst for vengeance.

He'd never take back what he did to Vaughan and his friends. Niko only wished that every day he didn't feel the bone-deep desire to do it again and again and again…

He looked up to see The Lady of the Forest sneering as if she didn't find much favor in what she was about to say, but needed to say it anyway. "If Zathrian comes, I shall summon Witherfang. I possess that power. I also have the power to ensure Witherfang is never found. Tell Zathrian this. If he does not come, if he does not break the curse, he will never find Witherfang, and he will never cure his people."

Niko's eyes narrowed, sensing a lie. It was in her hard posture, and the silence that settled among the werewolves after her words. Or maybe it was not a lie, but he felt some level of manipulation here. He'd felt the same when speaking to Zathrian, as if a piece of the truth were being withheld from him.

It was then that he remembered the smallest hint from an unlikely source of aid.

The forest had a spirit of its own, from back when its first seeds were sown.

The Lady of the Forest she was called, and now Niko knew what her connection to Witherfang was.

Perhaps the weres are the ones to blame, for the day she left is the day they came.

"Very well," he answered. "I will go to Zathrian and tell him this."

She may have been hiding something, but she was still right about this. Zathrian needed to be brought here to end this curse.

"Return with Zathrian as soon as you can," she implored after opening the door that led up to the surface floor.

Doing so would take much less time that they thought, it seemed.

Zathrian was waiting for them in the entry room of the ruin. As Morrigan pointed out, he wanted to make sure they did his dirty work for him. He admitted to being the one to create the curse, binding the spirit of the forest to the body of a wolf.

When Niko relayed the spirit's threat to keep Witherfang hidden, Zathrian almost seemed amused, a thin-lipped smile appearing on his face as his eyes twinkled. I know something you don't know. It was written all over him. But Niko did know; the Lady was Witherfang, beast and spirit both. It didn't change anything, and the Warden insisted on a meeting.

The Keeper was angry. Despite his calm explanations, it was obvious. Niko could feel the power beneath the surface; old magic fueled by too many long years of vengeful thirsting. The Warden was trying to be careful with this man. Provoking him to attack was the last thing they wanted. He was a powerful mage, and ancient, too. It was possible that he could take them all on himself. But Niko doubted it. If Zathrian were that powerful, he would have killed Witherfang himself. They could probably handle him, but they still needed him alive to break the curse, and they needed his clan's help against the Blight.

"Won't you at least consider talking to them?" Niko asked.

"Why?" Zathrian demanded. "You believe they have regained their minds, but they are still savage beasts. Their nature is unchanged. All they want is revenge…" He paused, perhaps realizing the irony of those words. Oh how they applied just as well to him. "Or a release I will not give them. No, let us take the heart and end it."

"…I'm not going to help you do that," Niko told him, using a reasonable tone.

"If you do not help me get the heart, then my hunters are not cured and you get no assistance against the darkspawn."

"You can meet with them. That's what I propose," Niko insisted, firmer this time. Zathrian needed to understand that he wasn't changing his mind on this.

"And what if it is revenge they want, and not talk? Will you safeguard me from harm?"

"I will, unless you attack first," Niko agreed.

Zathrian's hand went to his furrowed brow in a show of frustration. "I fail to see the purpose behind this… but very well. It has been many centuries, now. Let us see what the spirit has to say."

\---

"She is the Lady of the Forest! You will address her properly!"

Niko's hands were on the hilt of his blades, but he would have been too late had Swiftrunner decided to take a bite out of Zathrian instead of snarling in his face.

To Zathrian's credit, he seemed unfazed.

"You've taken a name, spirit?" He mocked. "And you've given names to your pets? These… beasts who follow you?"

"It was they who gave me a name, Zathrian. And the names they take are their own. They follow me because I help them to find who they are."

All Niko could do was observe. He'd agreed to bring Zathrian here so they could speak, but he and his companions could do little else but monitor it now. He was glad the Lady of the Forest insisted on calm and reason, but had doubts that this would go so smoothly. Glancing back at his friends, he saw they wore looks of uncertainly and held guarded stances.

"Who they are has not changed from whom their ancestors were," Zathrian accused. "Wild savages! Worthless dogs! Their twisted shape only mirrors their monstrous hearts!"

"He will not help us, Lady!" Swiftrunner howled. "It is as I warned you! He is not here to talk!"

"No, I am here to talk, though I see little point in it. We all know where this will lead. Your nature compels it, as does mine."

Despite these words, Niko was holding out hope that this could still end peacefully. He felt trapped as a sideliner at the moment, unable to do anything but hope the two opposing sides could end their war.

"It does not have to be that way," the Lady insisted, echoing Niko's own thoughts. "There is room in your heart for compassion, Zathrian. Surely your retribution is spent."

Zathrian frowned as he took a step forward. "My retribution is eternal, spirit, as is my pain. This is justice, no more."

His refusal seemed to change something in the spirit. She went silent, black eyes scrutinizing him. Whenever the daunting tranquility settled upon the spirit, it spread to the werewolves. It was just as in nature, when the silence and the stillness signal danger coming, and every beast can sense it.

"Are you certain your pain is the only reason you will not end this curse?" She asked, a hit of allegation in her calm tone. "Have you told the mortal how it was created?"

Niko looked to her, blinking a moment until he realized he was no longer just a spectator but a participant in this meeting. "He said he summoned you and bound you to a wolf."

"And so he did. Witherfang and I are bound as one being. But such powerful magic could not be accomplished without Zathrian's own blood." She turned to Zathrian again, the accusation clear in her voice now. "Your people believe you have rediscovered the immortality of their ancestors, Zathrian, but that is not true. So long as the curse exists, so do you."

"No!" Zathrian protested. "That is not how it is!"

Niko shook his head, frowning. They were getting nowhere. "How far are you going to go, Zathrian?"

"I did it for my people!" Zathrian exclaimed. "I did it for my son and my daughter! For them, for justice, I would do anything!"

"The curse would not end with Zathrian's death," the Lady went on. "His life, however, relies on its existence. And I believe his death plays a part in its ending."

"Then we kill him!" Swiftrunner interjected, misinterpreting her words. "We tear him apart now!"

Stepping forward, Niko, Alistair, and Zervan unsheathed their blades, while Morrigan readied her staff.

"Just calm down," Niko said, trying to keep this from turning into bloodshed, but he was being ignored by both sides.

"For all your powers of speech, you are beasts still!" Zathrian shouted at them. "What would you gain from killing me? Only I know how the ritual ends, and I will never do it!"

"You see?" Swiftrunner hunched over, ready to pounce. "We must kill them all!"

"See?" Zathrian turned to Niko. "They turn on you just as quickly. Do what you have come here to do, Grey Warden, or get out of my way."

"Zathrian! You have to end this curse!" Niko seethed, panicking as the situation escalated. He felt control slipping away faster than he could fathom.

"We're standing for what's right, here. No matter what." Alistair was behind him on this it seemed. And Niko vaguely wondered if Alistair had forgotten about his bite, or if he really meant no matter what.

"Then you will die with them!" Zathrian said, taking steps back as he raised his staff. "All of you will suffer as you deserve!"

The Lady transformed into Witherfang, teeth bared before lifting her mouth in a howl. Before he or any of the werewolves could make a move, however, binding spells cropped up around every one of them. Walls of light marked their barriers, and they could only watch as Zathrian's magic rumbled throughout the room, raising wild sylvan to attack Niko and his companions.

Zevran and Niko took on the trees so Alistair could focus on putting his Templar skills to use against Zathrian. Morrigan did her best to keep an eye on all of them, aiding them with defensive spells, which was helpful when Zathrian began shooting fireballs, lightning bolts, and cold spells.

All but one sylvan was chopped down, and Zevran faced it alone when Niko got caught in another cage of roots. He smashed at the thick wood with his weapon, breaking one hand through first.

He noticed Alistair taking a heavy swing at the Keeper, who narrowly avoided the lethal hit.

"Zathrian, stop this!" Niko shouted as he continued to bust through the roots. If the Keeper could just let go of his hatred for a moment, they could end this peacefully.

He finally made it through the wooden trap, only to hear Alistair shout a warning.

"He's using blood magic!"

Blood spilled slowly out of one of Zathrian's wounds, running bright and red with a readied spell.

Niko felt something stir within him, and he panicked as his own blood began to run hot in his veins. It didn't have the intended crippling effect on any of them though. And Zathrian tried harder to push out more power, but it only wounded him more.

The Keeper barely had time to roll out of the way of Zevran's twin blades, followed immediately by Alistair's sword digging into the earth where Zathrian's body once was.

"No, no more," Zathrian pleaded, bowing his head as he kneeled before their mercy. "I… I cannot defeat you…"

They all felt relief as the excessive warmth and tingling in their veins subsided, the blood-powered spell gone.

Zathrian commanded the power of the forest, the power of the elements, and the power of blood. But still he was beaten.


	13. A Pirate, an Assassin, and a Grey Warden Walk into a Bar...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zevran meets an old "friend" and introduces her to Niko. It's an odd time to have a threesome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was considering writing the sex scene, but I never wrote smut with a female character or a threesome before so I didn't want my first try to be public.
> 
> Chapter rating: T
> 
> Pairings: Zevran/(M)Tabris, and Zevran/(M)Tabris/Isabela

Laying on his bedroll beside the blazing fire, Zevran let the warmth settle over him as his eyes shut. Camped somewhere in the Southron hills, not far from the Brecilian Passage, they’d experienced their first snow fall of the year earlier today, only to have it melt just hours later.

It wouldn’t be this cold in Antiva, Zevran knew, just as he also knew that in Antiva, they would be into the second week of Satinalia celebrations right now. Traveling here in Ferelden with the Grey Wardens, however, the holiday had come and gone without any mention, as they were deep in the hills and far from any city where there might be feasts, and costumes, and gift-giving. Even if they were, Zevran doubted any place in Ferelden could do Satinalia the way they did in Antiva City. He was sorely homesick.

On the thought of gift-giving, his eyes trailed down to the pair of gloves tucked into his belt. He smiled and stroked the thick leather of one finger, admiring the impeccable stitching under the light of the fire.

Niko had given them to him once they’d left the Brecilian Forest and set up camp here. Of course, while walking days through the haunted woods, they had found many pairs of Dalish gloves, of varying quality. But that was beside the point. No one except for Niko had ever given him a gift with such sentiment behind it.

_They’re Dalish gloves, like your mother’s._

Zevran clutched the soft leather to his bare chest, smiling. He gave a glance to Sten and Shale, who were keeping watch. Early that morning, Niko, Alistair, and Wynne had taken the mabari hound towards the Korcari Wilds to tend to some personal business. They’d been gone all day, after Niko had what seemed to be a rather stern, one-sided discussion with his dog about not biting darkspawn for fear of corruption. Zevran would have found it silly had he not known how intelligent Gideon truly was. There was no doubt that the hound understood every word from his master.

With the Grey Wardens gone, however, that left the rest of them back at camp on full alert since none of them could sense darkspawn coming. Journeying through the Southron Hills months back had proven the meadows and knolls to be crawling with the blighted things, attacking caravans and travelers who passed through.

They hadn’t seen any so far though, and Morrigan speculated the darkspawn would be more concerned with defending their foothold in Ostagar, so most of them would have returned there. It gave Zevran a rather good hint at what the Wardens were up to today.

Leliana had already begun boiling water over the fire when the others returned. Zevran watched with interest as they trod silently into camp, stone-faced, but successful in their endeavors.

While Wynne and Alistair went straight for boiling water to wash the layers of enemy blood caked onto their skin, the first thing Niko did was walk over to Morrigan and hand her a rather large, sinister-looking book. She seemed pleased, giving the Warden a small smile before they parted.

Niko turned back with the intention of giving himself and his dog a good wash, but was disrupted by the sound of wooden wheels turning through the tall grass towards them.

“A small caravan is headed this way,” Sten supplied as he looked beyond where Niko could see, being taller as he was.

Zevran stood, keeping his eyes on the intrusion as it neared. It could not be Bodahn and his son; their caravan was already parked in plain sight just on the outskirts of camp, as he could very well see.

“Should I crush it?” Shale asked, almost a hint of eagerness in the statue’s tone as it curled its stony fingers into fists.

“Not yet,” Niko instructed. “Let’s see who it is.”

Alistair looked to Niko, wondering if he should strap his armor and shield back on, but Niko waved him off so he could get back to washing.

None of them seemed _too_ concerned, though it had only been a few days ago that they’d been attacked by a group of assassins targeting Leliana. The amateurs had proved fairly easy to dispatch, and perhaps everyone believed that this encounter would be just as simple to handle if it came to a fight. And they were probably right. But Zevran knew that all it took was one opening and a quick turn of the blade to eliminate a target. So he was in the habit of being cautious.

As he rounded the tents and shrouded himself among the cluster of trees surrounding camp, the assassin tucked the Dalish gloves back into his belt and sheathed a small dagger there as well.

They’d dealt with ambushes before. And while he was not sure that this was one, Zevran vowed that no one was getting the jump on them as long as he was around.

He watched from among the trees as a fair-haired man climbed down from his ox-drawn caravan. He looked a little nervous as he spoke to Niko, though Zevran could make out only a little of the exchange. His name was Levi Dryden and he mentioned a favor. Niko called Alistair over at this point and Zevran’s hand relaxed from the hilt of his dagger. There didn’t seem to be a threat from this man, though he continued to watch just to be certain.

Whatever they were discussing, Alistair seemed fully on board with it, judging by the tone of his voice. It sounded like he was making a royal promise when he said the man’s loyalty to the Wardens would be rewarded.

With the look of hope and gratitude, the man turned his wagon back around. Niko started shucking his armor immediately as he walked back with Alistair. Zevran couldn’t keep his eyes from trailing over the elven Warden’s weary muscles. The fatigue did not escape his gaze. Whatever mission they had been on today had drained the Warden inside and out.

Sea-green eyes flickered to his across the distance and Zevran knew he was noticed. An easy smile settled onto Niko’s face. He dropped his armor pieces and shirt on the ground as he walked into the darkness that the assassin was veiled in.

“Spying?” Niko asked him.

“Just making sure our visitor was not to pull a blade on you, my dear Warden,” Zevran explained, and Niko was surprised by the serious answer.

“Thank you…” he said and it was Zevran’s turn to look surprised now. “For watching out for me,” Niko clarified.

Zevran wanted to tell him it was his duty… that he’d promised himself in to the Warden’s service. But it was more than that and he knew it. Yet he couldn’t say that either, could he? So instead he remained silent as a hand reached out to stroke his tattooed cheek.

Zevran’s eyes shut as he took a step closer. His hands settled on Niko’s waist and he smoothly backed the Warden up against a tree trunk.

“I should go wash up…” Niko began his protest, but he lacked the motivation to follow through with it as Zevran began kissing his chest, which was free of blood spatters. He was unable to resist sliding his hands up Zevran’s muscled back as his eyelids dropped in a haze of desire.

“But the blood stains make you look so _fierce_ ,” Zevran said with a grin as he lifted his gaze to Niko again. “Your ferocity, it drives me to the peaks of desire!”

Niko laughed at Zevran’s whispered exclamation. He was then suddenly lifted by his thighs and his back pressed into the rough tree bark, held there against the assassin. “Zev,” he gasped, lust simmering just beneath his breath.

“You think I am kidding you about this,” Zevran chuckled softly and began placing wet kisses along the Warden’s exposed stomach.

Niko hummed in approval, his legs wrapping more tightly around Zevran’s waist for leverage.

“I guess Wynne was right,” he teased the blond elf. “Your mind is only ever on one thing.”

“Slander and lies,” Zevran murmured against the Warden’s skin. “And you are trying to bring dear Wynne in on our fun now, I see.”

“No,” Niko quickly denied, causing Zevran to grin at him before moving his lips to the Warden’s neck. “She just lectured me about fooling around with you is all,” he admitted. “She thinks it’s irresponsible.”

“Hm.” Zevran withdrew his lips and looked up at him. “And you disagree?”

Niko frowned in thought. At the time, he had just thought Wynne was being intrusive and blowing things out of proportion. But looking at Zevran now… He knew they were just having fun. This wasn’t about choosing love over duty. But he did care about the assassin, and the idea of having to choose between saving him or saving the country…

At the troubling look on his face, Zevran gave Niko’s thighs an affectionate squeeze and set him back down on his feet. “Or perhaps you do agree.”

“No.” Niko shook his head. He didn’t want Zevran to think that. Wynne _was_ making too big a deal out of this. What were the chances that he’d have to make that decision anyway? “No,” he said again, looking into Zevran’s eyes. “I like you. I have fun with you... I’m allowed to have that, aren’t I?”

It sounded like a genuine question, like Niko didn’t even know the answer anymore. And that made Zevran wish he could take him away from here and let someone else handle the Blight. It was a silly thought, he knew, but he thought it nonetheless. “Yes, I should think so,” he answered, looking back into green eyes to make sure his words were believed. “Your life does not have to be filled with only death and darkspawn, does it? Surely there is at least a little room for pleasure.”

“Pleasure?” Niko smirked, raising one eyebrow at him.

“And by pleasure I mean sex, of course,” Zevran laughed, closing the distance between them again. “After all, my mind is only on one thing, no?”

Niko’s breathy laugh tickled Zevran’s lips. “No. I don’t think that’s true.”

Caught off guard by that statement, Zevran’s smile faltered for a briefest of moments before it returned. And then he kissed the Warden, slow and soft, but insistent. He caught Niko’s lower lip between his own and tugged gently. Rough tree bark scraped against Niko’s back, in contrast with the smooth skin pressed to his own bare chest. Despite the chill in the air and the frost on the ground, there was heat between them as their tongues met and their hands teased bare flesh.

Niko surged forward, eager to taste more of Zevran, and he obliged, though he soon broke away to trail his lips down Niko’s collar bone.

The Warden gasped a little at the sensation, and his fingers threaded into Zevran’s long hair.

“Perhaps you’d like to continue this in your tent, hm?” Zevran asked, nuzzling the Warden’s neck.

“You know… Wynne also told me the others have been losing sleep because of us.”

Zevran let out a bark of laughter. “Well then perhaps you should try to be a bit quieter.”

“Me?? What about- ah!” Niko gasped louder than he meant to when Zevran suddenly bit into the curve of his neck, teeth grazing the tender flesh there.

He could feel the laughter rumble in Zevran’s chest, though he didn’t hear it. He was about to chastise the insufferable Antivan, but then he started kissing him again and Niko just didn’t want it to stop.

When their lips finally parted, they stayed close, breathing in the crisp air between them for a long moment. It was cold, late autumn, and the burn of the campfire called to them.

Wynne had already started bathing Gideon, freeing his fur of dragon-witch blood. Niko grabbed a wet rag and spared a glance over at Zevran, who disappeared into his tent to find a warm shirt. As Niko scrubbed the sweat and blood from his brow, he noticed where Alistair was sitting on a log, soiled armor, weaponry, and a single silver chalice piled at his feet. Niko didn’t really need to look closer to know that Alistair was cleaning the darkspawn blood coating King Cailan’s armor right now.

They’d given the dead King a funeral pyre before they left Ostagar, though it seemed insufficient. It was all they could do for him; a small gathering of people who didn’t even really know him, but who honored him nonetheless. Leaving him to rot where the darkspawn left him was out of the question.

They didn’t find Duncan’s body, or many others for that matter. Morrigan had said back on that day of battle that there were bodies being dragged off, some still alive…

Once he was clean himself, Niko put his shirt back on and wordlessly sat beside Alistair. Taking up his rag and Duncan’s dagger, he began wiping off the ogre blood that soaked it to the hilt.

“You should keep that,” Alistair said quietly.

Niko glanced to his friend and then to the blade. The red steel looked menacing under fire light. It would be nice to hold something of Duncan’s, to wield it in his honor against the Fifth Blight.

He smiled a little, and they continued to clean the belongings of fallen men in silence. The only thing not completely covered in darkspawn filth was the dragonbone sword King Cailan had wielded, as his father before him did. In fact, the rune-marked blade seemed to actually repel the poisoned blood. Neither of them had ever seen a more powerful weapon.

Niko scrubbed harder at the hilt of Duncan’s dagger, where the blood caked over some kind of etchings. Angling it towards the light of the fire, he took a closer look, digging into the grooves with the rag until the engraving was uncovered…

_In peace, vigilance. In war, victory. In death, sacrifice._

\---

The next morning, it was decided that they would be taking the northern road towards Orzammar, but they would be making at least one other stop along the way.

There was an old Grey Warden base called Soldier’s Peak up near the Coastlands. They were going to meet up with Levi Dryden so he could lead them through the tunnels to the fortress.

Niko explained a bit more on the way. Apparently Levi Dryden’s great-great-grandmother was Warden-Commander back in the day of King Arland’s reign. King Arland was the one who banished the Grey Wardens from Ferelden before King Maric allowed them back two centuries later. Most information about King Arland’s rule was lost in a civil war that broke out, so no one really knew what went on at Soldier’s Peak, where Commander Dryden died. But being fervent Warden-supporters, the Drydens revered Sophia, despite the fact that the Grey Wardens were banished from the nation under her command. Levi sought to find evidence to restore the family honor.

“We’re going to Soldier’s Peak with two objectives,” Niko told them when they got onto the Imperial Highway. “To reclaim the old Warden base, and find evidence that might tell us what happened there.”

Sten looked at him, disapproving. “How will this help stop the Blight?”

“This is Grey Warden business, Sten,” Alistair chimed in. “ _Duncan_ wanted this. We have to go.”

He didn’t endorse it, but Sten let it go this time.

After some group deliberation, they decided to stop at Denerim, too, since it was on the way. Leliana had personal business to tend to there, and Niko wanted to stop into Wade’s Emporium.

When they neared the city, the dwarven merchant, Bodahn, and his son, Sandal, had met up with them on the Imperial Highway. They hadn’t strayed very far; they never did really. Sometimes Bodahn ventured off to loot nearby villages that had already fallen to the darkspawn. There, he’d find items to sell on the road. But he’d always meet up with the party again soon, trailing not too far behind.

“You’re tellin’ me you brought in a couple of drake scales, and the man shut down his whole store just to make you armor?” Bodahn asked.

“Yes,” Niko replied, trying to refrain from smirking.

“Haha! And now you’re bringing him more?”

“I am,” the Warden confirmed, unable to hold back from grinning anymore. “I suspect I’ll be banned from Wade’s Emporium at this rate. It is very good armor though.”

“I have to agree,” Leliana chimed in, as she was the one wearing the drake scale armor Niko had commissioned before. “Though he could have added a little color.”

“This time I’ll ask him to dye it,” Niko joked. “What color do you think?”

“Hmm… Dark blue? With… jade accents!” Leliana gushed. “Oh, that would look wonderful with your skin color.”

“I have a nice hat that would go well with that, serah,” Bodahn told him, turning to rummage through one of his sacks. “You can bet your knickers I do!”

Niko smiled and rolled his eyes. He was pretty sure that was about the seventh time Bodahn tried to sell him that damn hat. And when it wasn’t the hat, it was the cheese knife.

They set up camp a few miles outside Denerim. By mid-afternoon, Niko took a small group into the city.

Zevran scoped out the house Leliana’s would-be assassin had pointed them to. They decided to lay low and wait for night fall.

They split up to avoid drawing attention to themselves, though they all had eyes on each other. Leliana was at the chanter’s board, reading the notes posted there. Alistair was keeping his head down amidst the crowds at the market stalls while making some trades. Zevran kept to the shadows, watching them all.

Niko exited Wade’s emporium and nearly collided with a guard dressed in impressive silverite chainmail.

He suffered the same tremor of fear he’d always felt when he got in a guard’s way in Denerim. It was no different from when he’d lived here, only this time it wasn’t just because he was an elf.

“Oh uh... can I help you Warden?”

Blinking in surprise, Niko looked up at the human’s face, completely non-threatening despite the expensive, specially-appointed sergeant armor and set of matching blades on his back.

“How do you know who I am?

“Your likeness was passed around to the senior guardsmen at the palace,” he explained respectfully. “I must say, the sketch didn’t do you much justice.”

Just months ago, a guard like this might have spat in his face for almost bumping into him. This one was complimenting him instead… while acknowledging him as a wanted man… Niko could do nothing but stare at him.

“Don’t worry,” the guard assured. “Even if I believed the official story of what happened at Ostagar, I’m no fool. If I asked _my_ men to apprehend you, they’d all cry big sobby tears in their courtesan’s bosoms and leave me all alone to be skewered.”

Niko couldn’t help but grin at the thought of all the guardsmen running scared from the poor, little city elf they used to kick dust at.

“Don’t disturb the peace in the market, and that’s well enough for me,” the Sergeant added.

“Is the Market really that bad?” Niko asked. He couldn’t help but glance in the direction of the Alienage gates, though he’d been avoiding the thought of it all day. Could the Market District be worse off than the Alienage? Not that anyone cared how well off the Alienage was, so it wasn’t really an indicator. The gates were still closed and no one was allowed in or out. There were still elves outside the gates though; the ones who hadn’t been in the Alienage when the gates were closed off in the first place. They were left barred from their homes, their community, and their families and friends.

Actually it just made more sense that the Market District was getting bad then. More vulnerable people out on the streets. The elves were both targets for violence and desperate enough to resort to crime themselves. Plus, there was a civil war going on and a lot of guardsmen probably joined the army, leaving the city understaffed in security.

“The lower market isn’t deemed important by the Captain of the Guard,” the Sergeant told him, not even trying to conceal the annoyance in his tone. “Even less with Arl Howe in charge. So when I finally get the new men I request, I get the _delightful_ surprise of finding out they’re Lord such-and-such’s illegitimate, untrained, moronic whelps. But Lords keep sending me more of them. It’s decent pay, no expectations, a uniform. So I have a legion of bastards to protect the market from pickpockets, stabbings, and whatnot. And Arl Howe’s _specially-picked_ men are the worst of the lot.”

“How are they worse?” Niko asked, though he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. Any news to do with Howe always came out bad.

“With the bastards, all I have to worry about is dicing, the odd bit of drool, or yelling at them loudly and hurting their poor feelings, and then getting chewed out by their noble fathers. But I swear, the Arl’s men are more criminal than the miscreants we occasionally arrest. Some of them _are_ the criminals we have to arrest. So if your lifeblood isn’t draining in the gutters as we speak, don’t bother reporting it.”

Niko grimaced at the imagery. For his family, that could be a real scenario right now. He still had no idea what was going on in the Alienage. He found himself offering assistance before he even really thought about it.

“What? You’re serious?” The Sergeant gave him a sideways look, before the doubt faded from his face and was replaced with surprise and gratitude. “I- yes. Yes, I could use help. I’ve got a pretty popular- uh… establishment crawling with mercenaries. If I send my boys in, someone might get – Maker forbid – hurt.” He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “And I’ll have to explain to their noble fathers that being a guard is actually dangerous.”

Niko smirked. He kind of liked this guy. “What do you need me to do?”

“The name of the whorehouse is The Pearl,” he explained. It was a place Niko knew of. “Beat down any mercenaries that are out of line and send them a message.” The Sergeant suddenly gave him a stern look. “I said beat down, not kill. Let me make that really clear. Not on fire, or exploded, or Maker knows whatever type of grisly death you can dream up…” Just as his exasperation seemed to hit a peak, the man must have noticed the look of surprise on Niko’s face, for he suddenly calmed. “Sorry. Used to giving orders to my boys. Just leave them breathing and I’ll be happy.”

Niko smiled easily. “Sign me up, Sergeant.”

“Thank you, Warden.” There was almost a sigh of relief in the man’s words. “Happy hunting.”

After grabbing Zevran, Alistair, and Leliana, the four of them headed out of the markets. Niko led them through familiar side streets and back roads to the whorehouse. It wasn’t far from the docks Niko used to pick up work at, handling both legitimate and illegal goods from ships coming in.

Niko had only been in The Pearl a few times himself, though never for pleasure. When they walked in, there was already a fight going on in the corner involving a lightly-armored woman outnumbered by a few men. Zevran seemed particularly interested in watching, and it drew everyone’s attention when it became very clear that the woman had them severely outmatched in skill.

The way she moved with her blades, finding a counter for every attack thrown at her. It was hard for Niko to draw his eyes away, but he had business to do here. Just like every other time he’d come to this place, it was for a job. Only this time it was legal work… well sort of. He was still considered a traitor to the throne as a Grey Warden, so Sergeant Kylon was probably out of line by hiring them to do this.

But the White Falcons proved quite easy to dispatch with just a little convincing. _Actual_ convincing, too. No bloodshed at all.

 _‘I’d make a decent guard,’_ Niko thought. Not like some of the scum he’d come across in his life here. They didn’t care about their jobs, about protecting people. Back then, there was only ever one guardsman Niko thought was worthy of the title.  
Jaren had been a good man. Despite how their fling ended, Niko believed that. They met for the first time very near here. Months before his engagement was even planned, Niko had been working on the docks one evening. He got into a dispute with a human. It was over something stupid. Things like that didn’t usually end well for elves, except Niko knew how to fight well. He was _better_ , and he had the audacity to prove it. Though that wouldn’t matter. It never did. Uppity elves still get put in their place.

But Jaren had been on patrol and broke it up before it even got close to out of hand. He didn’t punish Niko, or threaten, or take advantage of him. _‘I’ll escort you back to the Alienage. It’s gettin’ to be too late for any law-abiding elves to be out and about anyway.’_

Niko smiled at the memory, and the lingering, unabashed looks he’d received from the handsome guard on the walk back to the slums. He’d always admired the way Jaren could be so mannerly or flirtatious at any moment and still maintain the air of a rightful authority figure. He was so drawn in… and it had been so easy to turn it into something else. Something forbidden.

A polite guard had been a novelty to Niko at the time. He’d since met others outside of Denerim. And even Sergeant Kylon seemed to have some of those qualities, though maybe he was only friendly because Niko was a Grey Warden. Jaren had loved being a guard though. It was why he’d called off their fling, for fear of losing his job.

The sound of the whorehouse proprietor calling out a thanks to him stirred Niko from his thoughts. Back in reality, he suddenly felt guilty for thinking of Jaren when Zevran was right here with him. And then he felt ridiculous for feeling guilty because he and Zevran were not even a couple.

Niko shook his head and turned to his companions. Zevran was smiling over at the fight going on in the corner, which just ended. The pitiful men ran off with their tails tucked between their legs as the woman shouted insults at them.

“Why don’t we get some quick drinks before we go?” Niko suggested to them. “We can lay low here until it gets dark.” _And then we can pay Marjolaine a visit._ It was an unspoken but understood part of the plan.

Leliana nodded, and so did Alistair after some hesitancy.

Niko left them to it. He gave a glance to Zevran, catching his eye, and the assassin followed him when he went off to meet the woman in the corner.

She saw them approach, her full lips turning up in a smirk when she laid eyes on Zevran. “Ah look who we have here. Come to apologize for leaving me bereft of my Lord husband and then vanishing without a trace?”

Niko looked to Zevran, who gave the woman a devious smile and knowing eyes.

Well there was definitely a story here.

“You know it was just business, Isabela. Business that turned out well for you, I see. You inherited the ship, I take it?”

“Hmph.” She crossed her arms, drawing their attention to her well-developed chest. Even Niko couldn’t help but take notice. “I suppose I never did like the greasy bastard. And the Siren treats me far better than she ever did him.” She turned to her tankard on the table and took a swig from it before settling her eyes on Zevran again.

By now, Niko felt distinctly out of place. “Shall I let you two catch up?”

“Any catching up Zevran and I have to do, we wouldn’t be doing out here in the open.”

Well that was rather blunt, and Niko couldn’t help but admire that trait, though he also had to refrain from wincing. What was that…? That… stab of jealousy. _‘Why am I jealous!?’_

“Now Zev, shouldn’t you introduce us?” Isabela asked him.

“Indeed,” Zevran replied and turned to look at the Warden. “This is Isabela, Queen of the Eastern Seas, and the sharpest blade in Llomerryn.” Niko smiled. If he hadn’t been impressed already, he definitely was now. Zevran turned to the human woman now, grinning. “And Isabela, you will no doubt be amused to discover that I am travelling with a Grey Warden.”

“A Grey Warden?” Isabela’s eyes flickered with intrigue as she looked to Niko. “Charmed.”

The smolder in her eyes distracted Niko. “You’re fighting skills are impressive.”

"I assume you saw that little drama?” She chuckled. “None of these poor brutes has ever proven a match for me. They are too clumsy and predictable. I fight with quickness and wit, rather than with brute force and strength. I call myself a duelist because I honed my skills in duels with warriors I encountered over the years.”

“Will you teach me what you know?”

She smiled a genuine smile. “Ha! An unusual request coming from a fearsome slayer of darkspawn. I am flattered that you wish to learn from me, sweet thing.”

Niko blushed a little at the nickname, though he found he didn’t mind it. He did kind of mind the lewd smirk Zevran was giving him. Niko could see it out of the corner of his vision.

“It will take you years of practice to achieve mastery of the style,” Isabela said, drawing his attention back. “But I can teach you the basics. I do, however, wish to get to know my potential student better, so we shall call for a drink and you will honor me with a game.”

A smile remained on Niko’s face, but underneath it he was cursing himself. _‘She means cards. Damn it… I suck at cards. **Soris** even beats me at cards!’_

Hoping to avoid embarrassing himself, Niko tried to find a way out of it. “Are there no other ways for us to get to know each other?”

That spark that had been in Isabela’s eyes this whole time seemed to intensify, a fiery gaze that had Niko sweating as he finally recognized it for what it was. _Lust_.

Waves of brunette hair brushed her shoulder as she inclined her head at him. “Do you have… something _else_ in mind?”

What she was inferring wasn’t exactly what Niko had in mind, but now Isabela and Zevran were both looking at him expectantly.

He glanced to Zevran, who looked back at him with an intrigued expression. He was waiting to see if Niko would go through with it, but it was hard to say whether he was okay with it or not. Maybe he wanted to join them? _That_ sounded like a fun idea.

“I was thinking Zev and I could come aboard your ship. You two can catch up and… you could show us what’s below deck.”

“Ooh, and now you’ve piqued my interest,” Isabela said. “It would surely be rude of me to decline such a… delicious offer.”

Sparing another glance at Zevran, Niko knew he’d made the right choice. The assassin was giving him such a delighted smirk. “I’ve said it before and I will say it again, I learn something new about you every day, my dear Warden.”

“Ah this brings back memories.” Isabela smiled at Zevran and then looked to Niko. “Come. My ship is down by the docks.” She kept her eyes trained on the Warden as she passed him by to lead the way. “And I am sure you will find my cabins quite… comfortable.”

Zevran chuckled and went to follow after her, but Niko grabbed his hand to stop him. “What should we tell the others?” he asked, and Zevran glanced over to Leliana and Alistair nursing their drinks at the bar.

“Ah, leave that to me, my dear.” Zevran ignored Niko’s following protests and went over to their companions.

“Zevran!” Alistair shouted, swiveling around to look at the elf. “Y’should try the ale ‘ere. It’sss…. great.”

With a dopey grin on his face, Alistair went back to sipping his drink, while Leliana shook her head at him.

“He only had one drink,” she exclaimed.

“Well, best he stay here and regain his senses before we see to handling your business, yes?” Zevran suggested, and then carefully chose how to phrase his next words. “Our dear friend Niko is pursuing an opportunity he could not pass up. And I shall accompany him to… oversee the goings-on.”

Leliana’s eyes narrowed in scrutiny. “I am sure.”

“We will meet you in the Market District.” He left without another word, catching up with Niko and Isabela outside.

“What did you tell them?” Niko pried.

Zevran chuckled and slid an arm around Niko’s waist as he walked with him. He threw a wink in Isabela’s direction when he caught her giving them a mischievous look. “I told them the truth, of course,” he teased, knowing that was exactly what Niko was afraid of. “That Isabela and I are going to show you every pleasure of the flesh you can imagine, and then some.”

Niko rolled his eyes. “Well, I hope you also told Leliana we’d be back in time to help her.”

“Of course,” Zevran chuckled.

Like thieves in the night, they twisted through short alleyways to the docks, where the _Siren’s Call_ waited for them.

Isabela led them onboard. Her men were back at the Pearl enjoying shore leave, so it was rather empty. The Captain’s quarters was their destination, however.

It was dark, only a few torch sconces lighting the room. There was a large, ornate rug under their feet when they stepped inside. A heavy desk lined the far wall, a map of Thedas tacked to the wood above it. There was also a small round table with two chairs on their right, but it was the large, plush bed on the other side that they were aiming for.

Isabela shut the door and smiled easily at them. She sauntered over and began unbuckling Niko’s armor while Zevran did the same from behind him.

Niko’s heart pounded in his chest when Isabela kissed him, her lips soon trailing down to an exposed chest. Behind him, Zevran’s hands found their grasp at Niko’s hips, and the Warden looked back to kiss him too.

He’d never done this before. Niko wasn’t quite sure how to split his attention between two partners. But they seemed to know exactly what they were doing, and Niko fit just nicely into the routine with them guiding the way.

Soon, every piece of their armor and clothing littered the floor.

While Zevran was pressed to his back trailing kisses and nips along his neck, Niko was holding Isabela close and kissing her in ways he’d never kissed a woman before. And she and Zevran would meet over Niko’s shoulder to kiss each other, too. There were so many hands and lips involved, so much skin, so many touches… it was hard not to get distracted pressed between them as he was. And Niko found he was enjoying this as much as they were. Definitely more fun than playing card games…

\---

“Back home we call that an Antivan Milk Sandwich!” Zevran chuckled as he finally rested. Niko was curled up to him on one side and Isabela on the other.

Niko’s smirk softened into a smile as Zevran took his chin and tilted it up for a kiss. He felt Isabela’s hand reach for him and caress his side before moving it to Zevran’s chest.

“Well that brought back memories, didn’t it Zev? Pleasant ones even.”

“For you, maybe. I still remember the time your husband tried to kill me. I had to flee across the rooftops completely unclothed.”

“Ah yes,” she smiled softly and sat up to get dressed. “Those pleasant memories… Now,” she said, suddenly looking to Niko. “Wasn’t there something you wanted from me? A lesson perhaps?”

“We have something we have to go take care of,” Niko remembered. “Can I meet you back at The Pearl later?”

“Of course, sweet thing.”

This time, the nickname made Niko grin.

He and Zevran hastily put their clothes and armor back on before they rushed back out into the city.

The sun had just begun to set by the time they made it back to the Market District, where a sober Alistair and an anxious Leliana were waiting in the back streets.

“What took you so long?” she asked them, then took a good look at them. “And why are you covered in blood?”

“Sorry, Leliana,” Niko apologized. “We were… doing something. And those White Falcon mercenaries caught up with us on the way here. We had to kill them.”

“Did any guards see you?” Alistair asked right away.

“Yeah,” Niko answered with a smirk. “Sergeant Kylon was fighting right beside me.”

“Are we ready to do what we came here for?” Zevran asked. And everyone turned serious as they glanced to Marjolaine’s house and then to Leliana.

With determination, she nodded. “Let’s go.”


	14. In the Face of Corruption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Niko sees the spread of corruption everywhere; in his dreams, in the lands, in creatures that mirror and bastardize his own people, and in a centuries-old Warden with magic tricks up his sleeves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rushed this chapter a little at the end because I wanted to get it out. I meant to update a while ago, but my mom had surgery and I have been taking care of her and the house. Also I have decided to participate in NaNoWriMo this year, so that has to come before this story. So if I don't update by November 24, consider me on hiatus until sometime in December, which is when my mother should be healed and NaNoWriMo will be over.
> 
> Just know that I have zero intentions of abandoning this. The only way that would happen is if I physically could not. Like if I were hospitalized or dead. My Warden's story is important to me and it will be finished.
> 
> Chapter Rating: T
> 
> Pairing: Zevran/(M)Tabris

_‘The taint allows us to sense the darkspawn. The longer we survive with the taint in our blood, the more potent it becomes. Unfortunately, this corruption will eventually overwhelm the Warden; over time, it devours both mind and body, leaving nothing. But what if the spread of the corruption could be stopped, or contained in some way? What if the Warden could become more powerful, without having that power kill him? How great would that power be? Would it be enough to stop the demons?_

_The Joining ritual is crude. We take into ourself the blood of the darkspawn in the most obvious way. Most die from the corruption immediately; it is, after all, poison. There must be some way to refine the Joining. Isolate the true power that is found in darkspawn blood, and leave behind the evil that kills us._

_I can feel the corruption starting to take its toll on my body. I must not succumb. There is too much work to be done. Through my magic I've been able to slow its inevitable spread, but not stop it completely. I am starting to hear things, even while awake: A voice--more beautiful than any other--that calls to me from the depths. In my dreams, I see the Black City, and I am drawn towards it. There is something there, an answer to what this taint is, this taint that we share with the darkspawn...’_

“I don’t think you should drink it,” Alistair warned.

Niko set Avernus’s scribbled notes back down on the desk, next to the unlabeled potion that tempted him.

“The man performed dreadful experiments to make that... whatever it is,” Alistair reminded him. He picked up the old journal and read from it aloud. “’Day 32. The subject is not responding to the stimuli. Testing the _pain threshold_ has uncovered nothing. Only three subjects are left.’”

“Alistair-“

“’Day 97. Energy and blood,’” Alistair interrupted, reading pointedly. “’Repeated applications have duplicated the results.’ Bla bla bla. ‘ _But there are no more subjects left_.’” He closed the book and looked to Niko, who sighed. “He killed them all.”

“You’re right. Why let it go to waste then?” Niko challenged. “Who knows what it could do for Grey Wardens like us?”

“Exactly, we have no idea what it would do. It’s dangerous.”

“I wouldn’t touch it, Warden,” Levi spoke up from where he stood at a distance.

“See?” Alistair said.

“I say drink it,” Morrigan offered. “There is great potential here… if it doesn’t kill you. Perhaps let Alistair try it first?”

“Nobody asked for _your_ opinion,” Alistair told her.

“Zevran?” Niko prompted.

“Hm… well… It is up to you, my friend,” he answered carefully. He didn’t know what the stuff was and he was a bit wary too, though the power it might hold couldn’t be ignored.

“I’m not drinking it,” Alistair said.

After a moment of deliberation, Niko turned away from the potion. “Let’s finish checking the tower.”

“Are you really going to let that demon go free?” Levi asked then, referring to the creature that possessed his long dead great-great-grandmother.

“No,” Niko answered. “I only told it I would so it would seal the tear in the Veil.”

“Making deals with demons or lying to demons,” Zevran mused. “I am not sure which is more devious, but I am impressed.”

The next and final room was enormous… and it smelled like rotting corpses.

There were four deep pits; two on either side of the party as they entered. Looking closer to one, Niko could see skeletal remains at the bottom, trapped and submerged under water. The walls were lined with cages, boney fingers still clasping the bars in desperation. But the worst part was the bloody spikes sticking out of the wall. A corpse still hung there, limbs and chest impaled. Sharp metal tipped with gore pierced through bone and sinew, sticking with bits of frayed fabric and skin.

The anonymous man’s eyes were clouded over with death, his mouth hanging open in a scream that went unheard.

As a shudder passed through Niko’s spine, someone called out to them.

“Ah, I was expecting someone. Or something.” An old man stood from the raised platform at the end of the room and descended the stairs. He was human, bald, and his pale skin was marked with such age he looked ancient. “Please, come in,” he said.

The courteousness caught them all off-guard, Niko and Levi exchanging confused glances as they stood at the front of the group.

“It has been so long since I could focus, you see,” the man went on as he came to stop in front of them. “But the rip in the veil has been mended.”

“The old Warden mage?” Niko presumed. They’d had visions of this man throughout their time searching the haunted fortress. His hand-penned research notes and elixir were sitting in the previous room. Who else could it be? This was Avernus. “You’re still alive?”

“Only just. I have only a short time left,” he answered. “Why are you here? What is your intent?”

Niko glanced once more to the corpse hanging from the wall, to remind him this old man was more ruthless than he appeared “I’m debating whether I should let you live.”

“And here I thought you would rescue me,” Avernus said, mirth in his eyes and his tone before he turned serious. “Since the fall of Soldier’s Keep, my every breath was dedicated to keeping the veil from being torn completely open. And this is the gratitude I get?”

Niko’s eyebrows rose in surprise. He almost felt like he did back when Valendrian used to chastise him. This from a man who was standing here, defending the use of torture? Glaring at the mage, his tone turned low and dangerous. “I’ve seen your experiments.”

“They were necessary,” Avernus replied, unfazed. “Any tool, any iota of information that could defeat the fell demons was justified.” He looked at Niko pointedly. “As a Warden, you should know that.”

“Necessary?” Alistair spoke up, sounding more indignant than Niko’d ever heard him, even counting all of his conversations with Morrigan. “Having to relieve yourself after an eight-hour ride is necessary. But there is _nooo_ excuse for summoning demons.”

Avernus looked distinctly unimpressed.

“Charming.”

Shaking his head, Niko changed the subject. “Sophia’s great-grandson brought me here. Levi,” he said, looking to the other man, and Avernus followed his gaze. “Go ahead.”

“Master mage, uh, ser,” Levi said awkwardly, daring to step forward only a little. “My family name has been worth less than dirt for over a century. Do you have any proof that Sophia was a hero?”

“The boy who braved the mists. So you heeded my call.” Avernus gave a genuinely appreciative laugh. “And you are a Dryden? The cosmos has a sense of humor.”

Niko frowned. “Your call?”

“He was but a boy when he entered the tunnels below the Peak,” Avernus explained. “His heart pure. His character certain. In dreams, I gave him the keys he would need. He would be my deliverance.”

“Just answer Levi’s question,” Niko told him, rubbing his temple. They still had a demon to deal with after this. All this old magic was giving him a headache.

“Your great-great-grandmother was the best of us,” the mage answered with sorrow that turned to reverence. “Brave, charismatic, fiery. Utterly devoted to the fight. But still we lost. We fought against a tyrant, you know? So full of vigor, then. So blind to consequence. But proof? There’s none to be had.”

“I’m sorry, Levi,” Niko said, looking again to the man who’d brought them here.

“I… I had hoped,” Levi spoke quietly, all the faith he’d been holding now slowly draining out of him. “But thank you, Warden.”

“What was the purpose of your experiments?” Niko asked the mage.

“To stop the demonic tide. To correct the miscalculations of the past,” Avernus said, fervent in his convictions. “Blood magic comes from demons. They could counter every bit of lore I knew. But the darkspawn taint,” he almost grinned as he said it. “That is alien to them. And it has power.”

“What power?” Niko asked, thinking back to the potion in the other room.

“The Wardens use it to merely sense darkspawn. A triviality.” He spoke with the air of a man who was convinced he was the only one who truly understood. “My research has discovered so much more hinted at even greater heights. The knowledge could not only save Soldier’s Peak – with it, the Wardens could grow even more powerful!”

“This is wrong,” Niko implored. “Torturing people? You’re no better than the demons.”

“I have done what I must,” Avernus spoke gravely. “But… You shall be my judge.”

Niko stared in surprise, and Avernus went on.

“When you have what you need of me, I’ll… accept your judgment.”

Just like that. Without a fight.

Niko wasn’t even sure he could do it. He gave a weighted sigh. “Can you tell me about what happened here?”

“What use would story-telling serve?” Avernus asked. “The tyrant Arland is long dead. As is all our noble co-conspirators and the grand rebellion. Sophia’s corpse may walk and talk. But she, too, is no more.”

“How was Arland a tyrant?” Niko asked out of curiosity, though it seemed to rile up the old mage.

“He ruled with fear and poison. His treachery pit noble against noble in terrible battle. We thought him a monster. We gathered allies to rebel. But the toll of years has erased our failure, hasn’t it?” he asked aloud though it wasn’t really a question. “It seemed so pressing then, but the kingdom lives on.”

“…How have you survived all these years?” Niko asked, staring at him. It’s not that he hadn’t seen it before. Zathrian had used blood magic to extend his life, too, but he’d also had the werewolf curse binding him to this world. Also… Avernus was a Grey Warden. The taint should have overcome him long ago. Even with magic… Two centuries is a very long time. He must have done something remarkable.

“The Chantry foolishly forbids blood magic,” Avernus replied. “But there are so many secrets to uncover. As my body decayed, I found ways to extend it. But that can only go so far.”

It seemed that was all the answer he was going to get right now.

“….Alright,” Niko decided. “I’m done asking questions.”

“With the Veil mended, I would seek to continue my experiments in peace,”Avernus said. “Perhaps I could advance the Wardens’ knowledge one last time before age claims me.”

“No more dark research,” Niko ordered. “Find humane ways to help the Wardens.” He didn’t look to his companions for their opinions on this. Maybe they wanted this man to die, and maybe Niko thought he deserved it, too. But he was not an executioner and he wasn’t going to kill this guy if he didn’t have to. Besides… Avernus did terrible things, but his knowledge was important. Maybe he could make use of it.

“Without test subjects? Without… other materials?” Avernus asked, affronted. “You would cripple my efforts.”

Niko glared. Perhaps Avernus hadn’t believed him earlier when he said he was actually considering killing him.

“But I will do what I can in this endeavor,” the mage agreed. “I have little hope of discovering anything useful. But if I do, you will hear of it.”

As the others turned to leave, Niko lingered and looked to the Warden mage. “Avernus? That potion in the other room… Does it work?”

Avernus gave a thin-lipped smile. “Oh it works. Drink it and see for yourself. That potion is the height of all my research thus far. It would grant you power and comprehension beyond what you hold now.”

With a nod, Niko turned to leave and paused in the doorway. “If I survive this Blight, I’ll be checking in again someday,” he promised.

On the way out, he snatched up the elixir and brought it to his lips…

It wasn’t as bad as in the Joining ritual, but Niko doubled over as pain coursed through his entire body. Like electricity and sharp blades shooting through his bloodstream.

“Niko!” Alistair and Zevran rushed to his side.

But the elven Warden waved them off as the pain dulled, and through it he felt a small surge of strength. His skin tingling and eardrums thudding, Niko stood up straight, offering a reassuring nod to his companions. The pain was gone and soon his mind felt so clear, like something had connected, something he hadn’t known was severed in the first place.

“I’m fine,” he assured. “I feel good. Let’s go take care of that demon.”

-o-o-o-

It was a cool night in their camp outside Denerim. Staying within the glow and warmth of the bonfire was more alluring to Niko than huddling up in the tent at the moment. Though with his head resting in Zevran’s lap, fingers threading into his hair, the temptation to drag the assassin into his tent for some private time was present. He wasn’t sure he was willing to endure the few freezing seconds it would take to leave the nice warm fire and cuddle up in his bedroll though. Besides, he was quite content to just let Zevran continue playing with his hair, which, admittedly, was in need of a cut.

Zevran glanced down at the Warden, amused that the simple comfort practically had Niko purring in his lap. He would liken him to a cat getting a scratch behind the ears, except that this was much sexier.

A rather vague line was drawn when it came to the affection they showed each other among the group. Niko wanted to keep some semblance of leadership, even if they were all his friends for the most part. Thankfully, they had a bit of privacy at the moment. Across the fire, Alistair was slumbering in his bedroll like a snoring log. Everyone else slept in their tents. All except Shale anyway. Zevran had to wonder at that. Because Maker knows what _he_ would do if he were a sleepless statue…

He felt Niko turn in his lap, nose pressing to Zevran’s stomach. He could tell the Warden was asleep now; his breaths soft and even, body relaxed. His fingers remained in Niko’s hair, unconsciously threading through the soft strands that had grown over months of travel. He couldn’t help but study the younger elf’s face; his thick, black lashes, the straight line of his nose, and the rise of cheekbones under warm, dark skin.

He was a striking man, in more ways than Zevran had noticed at first. Making this assassin’s heart flutter… it was wrong. And he was almost ashamed at how far he had allowed it to go. Those feelings started out subtle, just grazing him, something he brushed off. But the more time Zevran spent with the other man, the more he coveted him.

At that thought, he maneuvered the sleeping Warden out of his lap and stood to walk to his own tent. Frustration set in as he laid down, trying to sleep. These feelings went against his very instincts as a Crow, he knew. Being so attached to another. Yet… he was not a Crow anymore was he?

-o-o-o-

_Under a poisoned sky, the archdemon soared unto a cliff side. It already saw him, he knew. There was no running away. It saw him and it was ready for him. With a savage roar that shook the earth and drove nails into his mind, its jagged, salivating teeth reached right for him. **I see you.**_

Niko bolted up, reaching blindly for the daggers lying beside him. His skin was stippled in cold sweat, screaming out with a need for the cool air and fire warmth at the same time. An incessant noise tormented his mind, slowly fading to the back as his blurred vision cleared. The first thing he noticed was Morrigan standing in the dark, the campfire flames flickering across her pale features. As she warmed herself by the fire, she gave his startled awakening a look of disquiet.

“You’re awake!”

Niko’s attention snapped toward Alistair, staring at him across the fire. He looked just as distressed as Niko felt.

“Did you… did you feel it, too?” Alistair asked. The frightened look in his eyes drew Niko in, and the clamor that had settled into the back of his mind steadily crept forth again. “It was like the archdemon saw us. Saw us! What does that mean?”

_Ugh that sound! Like screeching…_

“I think—wait!” Alistair stood. “Did you hear that?”

As Alistair took up his sword, Niko realized the screeching noise in his mind coincided with the darkspawn-senses thrumming under his skin, getting stronger and stronger.

Grabbing his daggers and getting to his feet, he turned around just in time to see the shadows in the trees move. Several Shrieks appeared, their awful sounds giving credit to their nickname.

It was an assault from the enemy.

A small horde of them appeared right out of the blackness of the woods, as if they were formed from shadows and filth.

Two of them were on Niko, the blades attached to their arm bracers slashing in a frenzy. He blocked with both his weapons, barely keeping them at bay. One of them leaped upon him, and Niko’s eyes widened when face-to-face with the creature.

These were what darkspawn born of broodmothers who were once elven looked like. This was corrupted elven blood and tissue he was looking at.

Would the taint make _him_ look like this someday?

His blades were crossed in front of him, keeping the darkspawn assailant from unleashing a frenzy of blows. Niko’s deliverance came in the form of Alistair shield-bashing the monster off of him.

As he stood, Niko’s eyes immediately scanned the battlefield. Morrigan was shooting bursts of flames at the shrieks, covering for Leliana, who shot arrows from a short distance. Wynne was freezing targets into ice while Gideon trounced them as best he could without biting into flesh.

…Where was Zevran?

Niko’s heart nearly stopped when he saw Zevran’s tent was torn and toppled. Though Morrigan’s was in a similar state, Niko knew where she was. Where was _he_?

As he turned to slice off one Shriek’s head, Niko heard familiar laughter that set him at ease. A few yards away, Zevran dropped down atop one of the unsuspecting darkspawn and drove two daggers into its hunched spine.

Niko thrust his dagger into the chest of another and lopped off that one’s head too while swiping his dagger out of the side.

Duncan’s dagger.

He smirked at the reminder and killed two more, his adrenaline spiking. When the darkspawn were felled, littering their campsite with dirty corpses, they all paused and held for another swarm. But there were no more.

Niko’s eyes scanned the camp as his body calmed and the thrumming in his veins dissipated. He glanced up when he noticed Alistair coming up to him.

“I guess it’s like Duncan once said; we can sense them, and they can sense us.” He glanced around camp, everyone picking up spilled belongings and loosed arrows. “We’d best be more careful from now on. This camp isn’t safe any longer.”

“Right before this, I…” Niko shook his head. It was so unsettling. The timing. It couldn’t be a coincidence. “I had another dream about the archdemon.”

“Yes, me too,” Alistair confirmed. “I got a feeling at the end there that it saw us. Was aware of us. Whatever you want to call it. It could have just been my imagination, I suppose. What do you think?”

“I think you’re right,” Niko told him.

“You know how some people want to be right all the time?” Alistair frowned. “Me not so much. I guess one thing’s for certain, at least, isn’t it? It’s official. This is a Blight.”

As Sten passed, talking about fortifications, and Morrigan went to fix her tent, Niko and Alistair parted.

Niko paused, meeting Zevran’s gaze across the fire and the sea of tainted corpses.

“Are you okay?” Niko asked as he walked up to him.

Zevran smirked at him and wiped some darkspawn blood from his brow. “What? No trap? No ambush? Some assassins.” He snorted.

“Glad you’re not so easily rattled,” Niko said after rolling his eyes.

“My tent, however, appears to have folded under the pressure,” Zevran said, glancing to the pitiful lump of fabric.

“Guess you’ll have to stay with me in mine,” Niko suggested playfully. Though his smile fell when Zevran didn’t respond with an expected quip or sexual innuendo.

“After we dispose of the bodies,” the Antivan said. “No one wishes to fall asleep to the putrid stench of rotting corpses.”

Niko nodded and went to help do just that, but Zevran caught his wrist and turned him to face him.

Zevran looked at his face a moment, and Niko wondered what he was thinking and what he was about to say. Then the assassin reached out and gently caressed his cheek, where Niko felt a bit of a sting. There was a bit of a gash there, running the length of his temple to his chin.

“You should have Wynne heal that first.”

“It’s just a scratch,” Niko said.

“Better to not let it become an infected scratch, yes?”

Niko smirked and was pulled into a quick kiss before they parted ways.


	15. A City Never Seen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frustrated with having yet another hoop to jump through -- in a strange, underground kingdom no less -- the heroes take a break at Tapster' Tavern.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I finished this chapter by the 24th. Quite proud of myself, though I ended up not really writing a lot for NaNoWriMo. BUT it still served its purpose; got me to push past a chapter of my novel that I was stuck on. Hopefully I can keep it up.
> 
> In this chapter, Niko's pretty much tired of all this nonsense getting in the way of gathering his army. There's also some fun tavern stuff, and implied sexy times with Zevran. If you'd rather explicit sexy times, let me know. I plan to put probably one more sex scene in at least. And probably another in the sequel I have planned. But if anyone wants more, I can certainly try it. I mean it's my story, but I'm always open to suggestions and ideas from people. I get inspired. :-]
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter. Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing.
> 
> Chapter Rating: T
> 
> Pairing: Zevran/M!Tabris

The Coastlands were freezing, sporadic flurries making the trip to Orzammar longer than anticipated. With the exception of Shale, everyone had cloaks and hoods pulled up to fend off the wind and snowflakes billowing all around them.

It was the same in the Frostback Mountains, just as cold as last time, with thick mounds of snow to fall in to. Thankfully, coming in from the north, they at least had the Imperial Highway most of the time, until they got to the mountain pass.

There were merchants all over up there, which they took advantage of, selling what items they'd come across and also buying and trading for things they could use. It also gave them a little insight to talk to surface dwarves who had close dealings with Orzammar. Niko knew next to nothing about Orzammar dwarves and their culture. All he was aware of was that they lived underground and had their own king.

While scouring the market stalls, they had some luck. Sten noticed a man selling a lot of armor and weapons. Among the merchandise was a rather large, very weighty sword. Sten informed him that it was a Qunari blade. It was not  _his_  blade, his Asala, but the merchant had to be Faryn.

Sten was inclined for a very direct approach, and Niko ended up playing a bit of Good Guard, Bad Guard… Or maybe it was Bad Guard, Worse Guard. Niko did sort of threaten the shifty man. Just a little. But they found out who Faryn sold the sword to, and it seemed the Maker actually wanted to give them a damn break. The buyer, Dwyn, was in Redcliffe, which would hopefully be their next stop after Orzammar.

Sten seemed to be in good spirits after that… It was hard to tell, but Niko thought so.

Approaching Orzammar's gates, they came upon a very aggravated human arguing with a dwarf. He was silverite-armored and flanked by lackeys, but the black-bearded dwarf was not intimidated.

"King Loghain demands the allegiance of the deshyr or lords or whatever you call them in your Assembly! I am his appointed messenger."

Niko and Alistair exchanged glances as they walked up the short steps to the gate. Both were thinking the same thing.

_Best avoid the "King" Loghain supporters._

"I don't care if you're the king's wiper," the dwarven gatekeeper responded. "Orzammar will have none but its own until our throne is settled."

It seemed like the most useless thing to say amid this argument, but Niko said it anyway; "I have important business in Orzammar."

"Not more important than mine," the other man butted in, looking down on Niko in annoyance.

"Your business will wait," the dwarf said. "Orzammar must limit outside influence until the throne is settled. No one gets in."

That wouldn't do. They needed aid.

"I have urgent need to talk to your king," Niko implored.

"Who doesn't?" The human snapped. "If I don't get in, no one should."

"Orzammar has no king," the dwarf informed. "Endrin Aeducan returned to the Stone not three weeks ago, sick over the loss of his sons. The Assembly has gone through a dozen votes without agreeing on a successor. If it is not settled soon, we risk a civil war."

Niko set his jaw. That was indeed serious, but the Blight was more important, wasn't it? He didn't want to break out the Grey Warden card in front of these Loghain-supporters, but it seemed he might have no other choice. "The Grey Wardens need their traditional dwarven allies," he said, motioning for Alistair to produce the treaty.

Everyone silenced for a moment. The gatekeeper gingerly took the treaty from Alistair to look it over. As he did so, the messenger visibly fumed.

"The Wardens killed King Cailan and nearly doomed Ferelden! They're sworn enemies of King Loghain!"

Niko shot him a glare, feeling his blood boil, but he was distracted by the gatekeeper before he could open his mouth.

"Well, that is the royal seal. That means only the Assembly is authorized to address it," he conceded. "Grey Wardens, you may pass."

"You're letting in a traitor?" the human challenged. "And a foreigner?" He pointed his weapon at Niko and addressed the dwarf. "In the name of King Loghain I demand that you execute this… stain on the honor of Ferelden!"

Niko's scowl bared clenched teeth. He'd had it with this man.  _'Who held a funeral pyre for King Cailan just days ago? Not a traitor! Enough of these accusations!'_

"Run to your false king," he spat, venom in his tone. "The dwarves will not hear him today."

The armored man turned to face Niko fully, looking like he wanted to attack. The men he brought with him looked nervous, but ready to act on orders. The messenger seemed to think better of it though. It would be suicide to attack their full strength of their party. They even had a golem!

"You... you'll hear of this. King Loghain will see you quartered!"

He walked away with his men, and Niko watched him go as until he heard the sound of shifting stone. The doors were opening.

"You are free to enter Orzammar, Grey Warden," the gatekeeper announced, while other dwarves worked together to open the entrance for them. "Though I don't know what help you will find."

The heavy gates closed behind the whole party, putting them underground and in the dim lit Hall of Heroes.

The heat inside Orzammar was stifling compared to the freezing winter just beyond the walls. The first things Niko noticed were the great stone pillars and fountains split with lava.

On all sides, there were huge statues that the dwarves looked upon with reverence.

"Imagine if all of those were golems..." Shale commented.

Some onlookers recognized them immediately as Grey Wardens. It didn't seem the title would get them in trouble here like it would in Denerim.

Beyond the next doors at the end of the tunnel was an underground city. It was what Niko knew he would find, yet it was astonishing all the same.

There was a yellow glow from a pit below the bridge in front of them; more lava of course. He could hear the hot, bubbling sound of magma below them.

A crowd drew near from two sides, most of them heavily armored. And bearded. They weren't paying attention to Niko and his companions; just to each other. The party watched from where they stood near the entrance as one of the unarmored, elder dwarves stepped forward.

"It is the Assembly who makes a king, and a king who nominates his successor. None of it is carried in the blood."

A younger dwarf with a nicely-braided, tawny beard responded. "Or, as now, when someone tries using the Assembly to pull a coup. Who's to say what my father said in his final hours when the usurper Harrowmont was the only one by his side?"

The older dwarf, Harrowmont, raged at this. "I'll have you thrown in prison!"

"You've bitten off more than you can chew!"

"Handlers!" another armored dwarf shouted. "Separate these deshyrs in the Diamond Quarter! I will not have Bhelen incite a riot!"

In what seemed a bit uncalled for, one of the dwarves standing beside Bhelen stepped forward with his huge axe. "You'll not speak that way about the man who would be king!"

The fight was ended in two moves, blood spurting from the guard left lying dead on the ground.

Gasps drew from onlookers, and Harrowmont retreated with his men. Then Bhelen left with his as well.

Niko glanced to his companions. They seemed to have stumbled right into the main events.

"Well, that escalated quickly," Alistair commented, rubbing his forehead.

Niko nodded in agreement and led them forward, where they were met by a guard.

" _Veata_  surfacer! I am bid to let you walk the commons, but keep your place. Warden or not, I want order."

"So do I," Niko responded. "I'm just here to get assistance for the Blight."

"Surface problems," the guard said. "Well we have no king to hear you. You can join the shouting at the Assembly in the Diamond Quarter, if you want. Bunch of deshyr lords bickering over sand. Bhelen, Harrowmont… is one so different? No Paragons here."

"Sounds like Bhelen and Harrowmont are the ones to talk to," Niko surmised.

"They've caged themselves for fear of each other," the guard informed them. "As you've seen, keeping order down among us working people is dodgy. No place for a proper lord. Bhelen speaks through his second, Vartag Gavorn, in the Assembly. Lord Harrowmont speaks through Dulin Forender from his estate."

Niko nodded, grateful for the information. "I should get going."

"Yes, you should."

Niko glanced from left to right, both sides looking the same to him. "Which way is-?"

"Diamond Quarter's that way," the man answered gruffly, pointing them the way.

"Thank you."

It was such an alien place to Niko; stone buildings crafted right into the cavern walls, and a giant pit of lava in the middle of all the bustle.

A city within a cave.

They must have thought him strange too. His party of nine attracted many sideways glances and even some outright stares.

"Wow. A real elf," one woman took note.

Niko decided they should split up once they reached the Diamond Quarter doors. Bringing everyone to speak to a few politicians would be overdoing it. So he took Alistair, Zevran, and Wynne.

Even in such a foreign city, it was easy to see the great disparities between the nobility and the common people. The Diamond Quarter was magnificent; the stretch of grandiose buildings cast in a yellow glow of lava, with proud dwarven statues standing alongside the deadly cascade.

It seemed the word of their arrival had already spread around the city. Town criers boasted the "news of the hour", with different sources claiming Grey Warden support for both would-be kings.

Alistair shook his head. "Have we even been here ten minutes?"

"Is that the Assembly place?" Niko asked, pointing out the large double doors to their left.

"Yes, I think so," Alistair said. Then he sighed as they stepped forward. "Well, let's see if we can get anyone in there to listen to us."

Of course the Assembly was exactly as the guard said; bunch of rich folks arguing about how best to secure their money. It was laden with a surprising amount of death threats – all of which sounded rather sincere.

From the doors, they watched until a recess was called and the Steward overseeing the debate stepped toward them.

He grumbled as he shut the doors and then turned to address them. "I'm sorry. This is the Assembly of the Clans. Only deshyrs and occasional quests of state are allowed in."

"You don't recognize Grey Wardens?" Niko asked.

"Forgive me, I am so exhausted. I completely forgot about the message from the gate guard," he explained. "Welcome to Orzammar, Warden. I hope you can forgive our unrest. The loss of our king has hit us hard. Respect for your role is great, but you won't receive a proper hearing until we have a king on the throne."

They'd been hearing a lot of that.

Soon, they left the Steward to return to his job and gathered off to the side.

"They're just going to keep telling us the same thing," Niko sighed. "They need a damn king."

Grinning, Zevran quirked an eyebrow at him. "Perhaps a little  _Antivan_  diplomacy could get you what you need?"

"We're not  _killing_  anyone," Alistair said.

"Not unless we really have to," Niko added. "I suppose we'll just have to throw in with Bhelen or Harrowmont. Talk to them about getting an army."

"But which one will you choose?" Wynne questioned. "You cannot decide on a candidate without knowing their background, their platform…"

There were a few glances traded, though all eyes eventually landed on their leader.

"Doesn't matter," Niko finally said. "Whoever we run into first I guess."

Wynne pursed her lips, ready to challenge him, but they were interrupted by a pale man, sporting dark hair and facial hair much shorter than most dwarves Niko had seen thus far. He moseyed into their path - quite deliberately probably - to welcome them.

"It is always a blessing for Orzammar to host your order," he said amicably. "I am Vartag Gavorn, top advisor to our good Prince Bhelen. What news do you bring?"

"A Blight on the surface," Niko told him frankly. "I came to Orzammar for aid."

"Yes, the treaty," Vartag said with a nod. "I've seen it in the shapers' libraries."

Having no idea what shapers were, Niko remained silent as the dwarf went on.

"Now, the difficulty is that the treaty only compels our  _king_ , and we are sadly lacking one of those right now."

Niko crossed his arms, looking down at the shorter man. "This is more important than politics."

"No one wishes this fight over more than Bhelen. But while it rages, Orzammar can spare no one for what may or may not be a new Blight."

 _May or may not be?_  Like he wasn't the authority on this matter? Now he knew how Duncan had felt.

But how could anyone else know for certain? They weren't the ones having nightmares about the Archdemon. He couldn't blame them really. Like Wynne had told him before, this was about responsibility. Not fame or reverence. Niko could only due his job and hope that, in the end, he wouldn't have to say I told you so.

"How can I convince you to help?" Niko asked. "I'll support Bhelen anyway I can if it will get me the troops I need."

"There might be a way," Vartag said, as if this wasn't what he'd been after the whole conversation. "If you demonstrate to Bhelen that you owe Harrowmont no fealty... Harrowmont is engaged in a campaign of bribery and coercion to ensure that every house serves him. But if a neutral party, a stranger, were to approach certain key members, perhaps with irrefutable evidence of Harrowmont's deception… I'm certain my lord prince would show his gratitude."

"Just tell me where to go," Niko said, cutting to the chase.

"Harrowmont promised the same portion of his estate to two different deshyrs, Lady Dace and Lord Helmi," Vartag explained. "Harrowmont can't possibly grant it to both of them, but they won't find out until after the vote is cast." He slipped some papers out of his belt pouch. "I have copies of the promissory notes Harrowmont gave each of them. Once they see those, they should both reconsider their votes."

"I'll find Lady Dace and Lord Helmi right now," Niko agreed, taking the notes.

"Lady Dace doesn't leave the quarter much. But Lord Helmi's adventurous, likes to spend his time at Tapster's… in the Commons." Vartag gave him a stern look. "Remember, don't tell them you got these papers from me. You learned of them and drew your own conclusions."

"Right."

Niko walked away, tucking the papers into his own belt.

Honestly, he didn't care how Vartag got his hands on them, or if they were even real. He was here for soldiers, not politicking. If he had to run a few dirty errands to get them, so be it.

As soon as they stepped outside of the building, another opportunist approached them at the steps.

"I heard there was a Grey Warden here," the red-bearded dwarf said. He took a slight bow of respect. "I am Dulin Forender, second to Lord Harrowmont, King Endrin's own choice as successor."

 _Ah…_  This is not what Niko needed. Talking to Harrowmont's man out here while trying to prove he showed no fealty to him?

"Word is spreading that the surface may suffer a Blight. It is shameful that we are not in a better position to help," Dulin went on.

"Yes, it's a shame no one can stop fighting long enough to deal with the real threat," Niko bit back.

"Even if the world would end tomorrow, Lord Harrowmont cannot ignore Bhelen today," Dulin said, getting to his point. "He cannot afford to trust anyone of unproven loyalties."

"And what do you want me to do?" Niko questioned. "Denounce Bhelen publicly?"

If that's all it would take, he might have even accepted. But of course it couldn't ever be that simple.

"If you wish to show you have no loyalty to Bhelen, then work against him in Harrowmont's name," the dwarf suggested. "Bhelen is hosting a Proving today, supposedly to honor his father's memory. The deshyrs take it very seriously. And unfortunately, Bhelen found some way to blackmail or intimidate House Harrowmont's best fighters into stepping down.

Niko frowned. "...And you want me to enter the Proving in Harrowmont's name…"

"The Proving is a contest of the best warriors in Orzammar. By fighting, they show who has the ancestors' favor. If you were to enter the Proving as Lord Harrowmont's champion, it would prove your loyalty beyond a doubt."

So fight in a tournament or deliver some papers? Since Niko didn't actually care about who became king, it seemed obvious which task would be quicker.

He was surprised to hear Zevran's patronizing chuckle behind him. "And this is to be your king? One who cannot keep his own men from running like frightened children?"

Dulin Forender was surprised too, and affronted. "Lord Harrowmont does not use threats or intimidation to motivate his men. He leads by example."

"Ah, I see. So it's his example they follow as they cower from this Prince Bhelen?" Zevran said, raising a condescending eyebrow.

"How dare you slander Lord Harrowmont!"

Niko kept an eye on Dulin's sheathed blade. He could just imagine another scene like they'd walked in on in the commons.

"Why should we ally ourselves with someone too scared to even grant us an audience?" Zevran asked, crossing his arms as he turned to Niko. "Were I you, I would seek a stronger king than this Harrowmont."

"Surely you don't mean Bhelen," Dulin grumbled.

A beat of silence, and then Niko turned to give the dwarf his answer. "Sorry, but I can't support Harrowmont."

"Then you and I have nothing more to say."

They watched him leave.

"Let's find this Dace lady's house," Niko suggested.

-o-o-o-

"We've been collecting nugs!" Leliana informed them happily when they all met up again in the Commons.

Niko blinked in confusion as she simply smiled at him. "…what?"

"You  _know_. Those cute subterranean bunny-pigs. Your hound is very good at sniffing them out actually."

"Best nug-wranglers I ever met!"

Niko glanced over to see Sten handing over a boxed nug to a very grateful dwarf.

Alistair smirked. "I'm glad to see important business in Orzammar was being taken care of while we were gone. Good job, team."

"Where's Morrigan?" Niko asked.

"I believe she is browsing the merchant stalls," Zevran answered, pointing to the tallest woman in a small crowd a few yards away.

"Right, let's get going," Niko instructed. "Have any of you noticed a place called Tapster's around here?"

Leliana nodded. "I noticed it when we came in. It's this way."

Niko let them go on ahead a bit, turning to fetch Morrigan. He found her standing beside a stone table where some fine jewelry, gems, and books were on display. She was gazing down at a golden mirror, the glass polished to perfection and reflecting her wistful face.

Niko reached into his pouch and held out a handful of silvers to her. "You should get it," he said softly, knowing what the mirror meant to her.

Her yellow eyes widened marginally, but she didn't take the coins. So he dropped them into the dwarven merchants hand and purchased it for her.

She looked down at the mirror, now hers, and flipped it over where wild animals embossed the other side. "You must wish something in return, certainly."

"No, Morrigan. It's a gift."

"I have…  _never_  received a gift. Not one which did not come at a price." She smiled a little, and with her next words Niko swore he heard her voice waver. "I suppose I should say thank you. For the gift. Tis… most thoughtful, truly."

He smiled back. And they trailed behind the others as they made their way to Tapster's Tavern.

Lord Helmi was easy to find, talking unpopular political opinions with a small crowd. He accepted the evidence against Harrowmont without any questions.

"What about Lord Dace?" Alistair prompted as the rest of the group seated themselves. "Are we going to go look for him in the Deep Roads?"

"We are," Niko answered, though he frowned. "Maybe we should head out tomorrow or… Maker, is it even still daylight? I can't tell down here."

Alistair chuckled. "Tomorrow then."

"Guess we should ask about getting some rooms," Niko said. They went over to the barmaid, a friendly redhead.

"What can I do for you, Wardens?" she asked.

"Do you have any rooms available? We're going to need about four if you do."

"I think I can make that happen," she answered happily.

"Great," Niko said with a grin as he mentally divided up his group into roommates.

…He hoped Zevran would want to share a room with him.

"Will there be anything else?" she asked.

Niko glanced to Alistair, who shrugged.

Well, they were here for the night (or whatever time of day it was). Might as well get comfortable.

"I'll have a drink," he decided.

She smirked. "With fifty-two types of ales, seventeen types of mead, and a dozen imported wines, we should be able to serve your needs. What'll you have?"

"Your best mead," he ordered.

"Could I get some ale?" Alistair chimed in. "Something that won't kill me please."

They took their drinks to the group of tables the others seemed to have casually assembled at.

"I once drank a thimble of dwarven ale," Leliana regaled them. "Woke up a week later in Jader wearing nothing but my shoes and a towel."

Zevran was the last to sit down, carrying a mug of his own. He claimed the only empty seat, the one beside Niko which everyone seemed to have left open for him. It was a fact they chose not to acknowledge.

Gideon was lying under the table, while Shale was heckling the drunk performers on stage. Leliana stood to go buy a drink after some teasing from Alistair.

Niko leaned back in his seat, sipping his drink as he took it all in. The bar's warmth, the terrible drunken songs, and the chatter all around him. His dog's head was settled heavily against his boot as the animal snored. It was actually quite nice to just sit down all together and share a pint.

"What are you drinking Zev?" he asked the other elf.

"Valenta's Red," he answered. "Try a bit."

Niko accepted the mug and sipped it, glancing at Zevran over the rim. "It's good."

Zevran smirked as Niko slid the drink back to him. "I was told it is the best brew in the tavern. However, it is no Antivan brandy... So," he changed the subject. "What is our next move, oh fearless leader?"

Niko stared at him, for a moment wondering if he was actually referring to their relationship or whatever they were calling it. Because he was honestly wondering lately if they possibly needed to discuss it. But then he realized that probably  _wasn't_  what Zevran meant, and he had to take another swig of his mead just to hide his blush behind the mug.

"Well," he started, setting the tankard down on the table under Zevran's lingering gaze. "Tomorrow we'll go to the Aeducan thaig to look for Lord Dace and show him those papers. I haven't looked over the map in depth yet, but it doesn't seem  _that deep_  in the Deep Roads actually. Might take a day to get there and back." He sighed, glancing to Zevran. "So…  _you_  think Bhelen's the right one to support?"

"Ah, I do apologize if I was out of line with you outside the Assembly Chamber," Zevran said, glancing down to the dark, rosy liquid in his cup. "I did not wish to see you placing your bets with someone that would lose it all. Your task is too important."

Niko smiled a little at him. "Thanks for looking out for me."

Softly, Zevran chuckled a bit. "I swore an oath of loyalty to you, my dear Warden. Rest assured that Zevran Arainai is your man."

Niko's smile turned more devious as he leaned closer. Zevran paused with his tankard halfway to his lips as a hand crept up his thigh.

"Would _my man_ like to share a room with me upstairs tonight?"

"What?" Zevran grinned. "And I'm not even drunk yet!" He laughed, which added to the buzzing warmth that the mead had already stirred in Niko. Made him want the Antivan more. That laugh… that smile… It never failed to get his heart racing.

-o-o-o-

Niko still had no idea what time it was. There was still plenty of noise going on downstairs at the bar, while he and Zevran laid naked in bed.

He sighed, content as his arms tightened around Zevran and nuzzled his chest. Zev's fingers threaded into his dark hair, making him shiver delightfully. He felt a rumble of laughter in the assassin's chest, and his fingers tugged slightly at the soft strands.

They were interrupted by scratching at the door.

Niko reluctantly rolled out of bed, throwing some loose pants on before answering it.

Gideon stared up at him, cocking his head and letting his tongue hang out. He then let himself into the room and immediately jumped up on the bed, prompting an Antivan swear out of Zevran.

Niko shut the door and smiled, going to retrieve his shirt and boots.

"I'm going to find something to eat," he informed. "Do you want me to bring you anything?"

Zevran gave a low chuckle, a naughty gleam in his eyes. "Just bring yourself back ready for round two." He winked.

Niko's face turned red. He left, Gideon following at his heels. Poor dog probably didn't know what to do with himself. Niko patted his head. "Do you want to sleep with Sten tonight, boy?"

Gideon's stubby tail wagged as he barked.

Everyone was still seated at their table, or in the general area, except for Sten and Morrigan. Wynne was finishing a goblet of wine and offering to let Shale stay in her room, though the statue wouldn't be doing any sleeping of course. Leliana was laughing and telling a story. Alistair… still seemed to be on his first drink.

"Y'heard what Leliana said 'bout that thimble," he slurred when Niko asked him about it.

The Tavern's menu was severely lacking in the food department. Anything made from surface ingredients cost twice as much as he would actually pay on the surface. Everything else mostly consisted of fried mush and nug.

He decided to try the deep mushroom soup, which… wasn't terrible. Though he did give it to Gideon after a couple of bites, then wandered closer to the performers on stage.

He glanced to a dark-bearded dwarf in nice armor next to him and gave him a nod.

"Afternoon stranger," he greeted. "You looking for a stool to share a brew?"

"Don't mind if I do." Niko smiled and sat down. He could spare a couple more minutes, though he was thinking of Zevran, waiting for him.

"Name's Nevin," the dwarf said, pouring a tankard for him. "I fight with Prince Bhelen's expeditionary field unit. Yourself?"

"I'm Niko, a Grey Warden."

"Figured as much," Nevin said while Niko sipped his drink. "Good folks, Wardens. I was in the Deep Roads when that one came by. What was his name?" The man's eyes narrowed in thought. "Doocan? Dunca…? Something like that."

Niko stared at him, blinking. He felt the alcohol buzzing in his mind, trying to wrap around this information. "You knew Duncan?"

"I met him, sure. Good man. Solid. He knows what we go through in the Deep Roads. Not many do. Not even the ones who live this close. You have to be on the front lines."

"Tomorrow I'll be headed there myself for the first time," Niko told him.

"Every Grey Warden ends up there. That's where they send you when you're ready to leave this world," Nevin told him. "Go die in the dark, putting away as many vermin as you can."

Niko tried to imagine the swarms of darkspawn he'd seen on the surface coming at him in dark, narrow tunnels…

He swallowed some ale.

"Getting more crowded these days, though," Nevin went on. "Lots of people interested all of a sudden. We go back tomorrow and we're not the only ones."

"Good luck out there," Niko told him, standing. "Thanks for the drink, but I should get going."

Leliana and Alistair were the only ones still at the table when Niko passed. He told them good night and returned to his room, though first dropping Gideon off with Sten. He didn't seem to mind. The two of them were kind of friends actually.

His room was dark when he entered, only one candle burning. Once the door was shut he immediately felt strong arms around him, a hand covering his eyes and familiar, breathy laughter in his ear.

"You've had me waiting here for quite some time, my Warden."

"Sorry, Zev." Niko gasped as he was smoothly guided away and pressed down onto the bed.

"Hmmm… How  _ever_  will you make it up to me?"


	16. Become the Beast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dead Trenches are the only thing standing between the Grey Wardens and what they came for. But it's the hardest challenge yet. Darkness is around every corner, and Niko won't make it out without it touching his soul.
> 
> This is where heroes come to die... or worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really didn't mean to go this long without updating. I figured I would have to take a break for the holidays, but life happened and then I also kind of lost my drive to write. But I think I got it back! So I hope you enjoy this. Hopefully the next chapter will be out in two weeks or so.
> 
> Thank you all for reading, reviewing, and sticking with me!
> 
> Rating: T
> 
> Warnings: Spiders, and some mildly disturbing content. (It's the Dead Trenches, ya'll. Here there be broodmothers.)
> 
> Pairing: Zevran/M!Tabris

Utter blackness was warded only by a single lantern, an eerie glow cast against thick cavern walls. Niko sat beside the small fire light, knees drawn up to his chest as his vigilant eyes searched the dark tunnels.

His companions slumbered behind him, spread out in their bedrolls. Oghren snored terribly, but Alistair and Morrigan seemed to be able to sleep through it.

It had been difficult for Niko to decide who to bring with him to find Paragon Branka. Alistair was an obvious choice; Niko preferred to have another Grey Warden with him down here in this darkspawn pit. Oghren was a stranger, but he made his case. Being that he’s Branka’s husband, Niko thought it would be a good idea to bring him along. Anyone else he was cautious of taking with them. They were bound to run into far more darkspawn down here than they did on the surface, and in tight quarters too. If any of them contracted the taint…

He thought about bringing Shale for that reason. Shale wouldn’t be in danger of corruption from the darkspawn taint. But Niko was wary of travelling deep into forsaken thaigs without a healer. Morrigan wasn’t exactly adept in the school of healing magic, but she knew enough. As capable as Wynne turned out to be despite her age, Niko didn’t like the idea of dragging the older woman further underground.

Right now he envied them all, back at the tavern sleeping in their beds... or awake and doing Maker knows what. Niko had lost track of day and night after so long underground with no sun or moon. He wasn’t even sure how long they’d been down here in the Deep Roads, though Oghren assured that it had been about a week.

Niko wondered what the others were doing, wondered if Harrowmont was giving them any trouble.

He wished he could have brought Zevran. He would have made living in the dank tunnels much more sufferable. With his colorful stories, they could escape beyond the underground walls and travel overseas to an exotic land. At least in their minds.

Niko disliked being away from Zevran for so long, too accustomed to seeing the Antivan every day... He wondered what that said about their relationship. Maybe he was getting too attached. It was just supposed to be for fun after all, right?

Except Niko knew that had already changed long ago. At least for him it had changed... He couldn't speak for Zevran, of course.

He rubbed his forehead, smearing the dust and sweat that layered his skin. Head to toe, the grime of the Deep Roads seeped into their pores and mouths, breathing in dust and a meager air supply.

They were trying to conserve water, so Niko reached for his canteen with the intention of using just enough to clean his hands and his face. But before even one drop of water spilled out, Niko froze when he caught movements in the darkness.

Slowly he put the canteen away and reached for his daggers, eyeing the creature as it skittered low across the ground. It was obscured by shadows, but Niko was anticipating either a spider or a deep stalker. Because that was what they usually ran into down here, aside from darkspawn.

He crept toward it, moving away from the lantern and relying on his vision. It was better than any human’s, especially in the dark.

But even his sharp sight didn’t protect him from the sticky web that was suddenly fired at him. He tried to turn his face away, and was shocked to realize he was already immobilized by the entrapping web. Not one arm nor leg could move an inch. Even his mouth was sealed, leaving him helpless to warn his companions as more corrupted spiders crept down the rock walls. Through sappy web netting his eyelashes, Niko watched a blur of a half dozen corrupted spiders crawl by, heading towards his friends’ prone, sleeping bodies.

Two of those spindly legs were on him, doing  _what_  Niko wasn’t sure. But his insistent shouts were muffled. No one could hear him scream or struggle. But he continued to fight against the restraining web, squirming and twisting.

Then a venomous hiss below him told Niko exactly what was coming next. He fell, pinned to the ground as powerful fangs cut into his face.

On the positive side, the webbing was nicked and Niko was able to tug his mouth free.

“ALISTAIR!”

He rolled to his side to avoid further mauling to his face. Even now, blood dripped onto the dusty ground beneath him as he shouted at his companions to wake up.

Alistair’s eyes opened to see several mutated spiders crawling towards him. “Woah!” He shot up. “Beasties! Beasties are coming!”

Niko struggled to wriggle free as the spider crawled over him, a heavy weight on his legs, and then his back. Fangs dug into his shoulder blade, but his leather armor softened the blow. From the depths of the dark, he watched his companions spring into action, the shadows of their battle playing against illuminated stone walls. A heavy swing of Oghren’s battle-axe took out a line of huge spiders and Morrigan froze several others, leaving them vulnerable to Alistair’s sword and shield. Meanwhile, Niko fought for the use of his own weapons. The beast on his back was in no danger of the elf’s daggers as long as it remained there. It continued to assault his armor, blindly searching for flesh to sink its fangs into.

A burst of purple wisps filled Niko’s vision as an arcane bolt flew above his head. The spider on his back screeched as it was knocked to the ground. It was all the opportunity Niko needed to free himself from the last of the webbing and get to his feet. His twin daggers sunk into the arachnid’s round back, spurting tainted gore.

The tunnel floor was littered with curled spider corpses as Niko made his way over to them, blood seeping down his face. Oghren and Alistair lit another lantern and searched the dark for more beasts, but only found the one Niko had killed.

Morrigan was tending to Niko’s wounds. Finding a deep slice from his brow to his nose and another splitting his lip, she applied some healing magic that sealed the bleeding cuts until they were only scratches.

“Thank you,” Niko said as he ignored the fierce urge to scratch his face. Healing magic was always so itchy.

“Thank  _you_  for rousing us before the vermin could suck out our lifeblood,” she replied, though she sounded anything but thankful. “Twas your turn to keep watch, was it not?”

“It was,” Niko groused, glancing away. “I made a mistake.”

“Indeed,” she said. “Perhaps you should have brought the assassin along to keep you on your toes at night.”

Niko sighed, but decided not to reply since Oghren and Alistair were returning.

“We didn’t find any more close by,” Alistair informed. “Maybe it’s best we get going though.”

“No doubt we’ll only find more of ‘em once we get into the Dead Trenches,” Oghren told them, his eyes on the tunnel veering off ahead.

Alistair smirked. “Such a charming name.”

“I’m sure it’s lovely,” Niko said dryly as he went to roll up his bedding. “Come on, let’s pack up and start moving.”

They walked mostly in silence for a while, too tired or too on edge to speak. Niko’s senses were on high alert in the dark, but he didn’t need it to take notice of the heavy thrumming under his skin, starting at the edges and tapping incessantly at his core.

There were darkspawn ahead. Lots of them. He  _knew_  because never before had he felt the taint beat so wildly in his veins.

Anticipation.

A horde.

An army.

The leader.

Light came to them in the form of a massive lava flow miles below them. Peeking over the edge, they caught a flurry of gnarled scales the color of filthy blood. The archdemon bellowed as it soared higher, looking down upon its glorious army.

Niko could only stare in awe as the archdemon landed on a bridge, rearing its head to blast purple fire from massive jaws. The army marched, sworn to their god.

Niko could feel the song in his blood. Death, destruction, and illness screaming within him. They were going to blacken the land.

They had to stop it. It was their job to stop it.

...But how do you stop a god?

-o-o-o-

 

The stench of rotting flesh and gore was so repulsively strong, all four of them covered their mouths as they walked further in. The floor was tarnished red with layer after layer of blood, old and dry stains at the bottom with coagulating pools on top. Torn corpses on pikes, intestines hanging limp and bones jutting through meaty skin, mutilated sacks of flesh littering the way in heaps and saggy piles… There was no escaping it. The dirty, coppery smell of blood tinged every surface and filled the room, clogging their senses.

Niko was so sickened that he didn’t notice the sullied dwarven woman bent over one of the disemboweled carcasses. But then she spoke, low and hollow, not to any of them. Not to anyone at all. But they heard, no matter how much they didn’t want to.

"First day, they come and catch everyone…

Second day, they beat us and eat some for meat…

Third day, the men are all gnawed on again…

Fourth day, we wait and fear for our fate…

Fifth day, they return and it's another girl's turn…

Sixth day, her screams we hear in our dreams…

Seventh day, she grew as in her mouth they spew…

Eighth day, we hated as she is violated…

Ninth day, she grins and devours her kin…

Now she does feast, as she's become the beast."

She stood slowly, in jerky motions. Head cocking at to the side, filthy strands of hair fell into her eyes, obscuring the dark blotches mottling her pale skin.

“What’s this?” She asked, her voice quiet and rasped, devoid of feeling. “An elf? Exotic and impossible…”

His companions behind him, Niko stopped a few feet from her, observing her cautiously. She looked sick, feverish. Her knees and legs were caked in both dry and fresh blood, as were her cracked lips.

“Feeding time brings only kin and clan,” the woman continued. “I am cruel to myself. You are a dream of strangers’ faces and open doors.”

“You’ve been forced to eat your kin?” Niko’s question was quiet, escaping his lips before he even realized he was speaking.

“And others,” the dwarf replied, head still cocked at a disturbing angle, her eyes dead, arms hanging limp at her sides. “Fresh, not those who turn. Killed right here. And we’re fed. Laryn first. But I am filled. I am…” With a nervous twitch, the woman began stroking her forearm, her eyes downcast to the tainted ground. “All I could do was wish Laryn went first. I wished it upon her so that I would be spared. But I had to watch. I had to see the change. How do you endure that?” She asked, emotion slipping into her words at last. “How did Branka endure??”

Niko glanced to Oghren. “Is this someone from Branka’s house?”

“Aye,” he nodded, eyes distant. “Her name is Hespith.”

“What change?” Niko asked the dwarven woman.  _All this carnage… Why?_  “What are they doing?”

“What they are allowed to do. What they think they must,” Hespith replied, her voice stripped of feeling again, only for it to return with crushing hurt. “And Branka… Her lover, and I could not turn her. Forgive her… but not, she cannot be forgiven. Not for what she did. Not for what she has become.”

 _‘Lover? …Maybe that was what Branka wanted to tell Oghren.’_  Niko thought to himself, trying to avoid looking at his dwarven companion. “When did you last see her?” he asked Hespith.

“No more than a few breaths, but longer than an eon. It was… long enough… Long enough to miss her… to love her again… to hate her more than ever. No,” she spat. “I swore not to speak of it, not to think of it. La-la-la-la-la. I will not hear any more about Branka.”

“What did she do?” Niko urged. “Help me. I’ll take you to her.”

Hespith looked at him, her glassy eyes sending a chill up his spine as she breathed a hopeless sigh. “They spit bile and blood in my mouth! I would rather die than bring that with me, than have… her… see me like this. I will not become what I have seen! Not Laryn! Not Branka!”

Suddenly, Hespith cut through them, staggering away until she gained momentum enough to run at a broken pace.

Blood soiling their boots, they followed after her through the tunnels. And her voice echoed off the walls from up ahead, like her ghoulish poem…

"She became obsessed... That is the word, but it is not strong enough. Blessed Stone, there was nothing left in her but the Anvil."

Niko looked around but could not see her. Outside the tunnels, he recognized the broken bridge near where they first encountered the archdemon and its marching army. They were on the other side of it now.

Niko paused, a hard pulse hitting him from his left, like a wall. Only it wasn’t something seen or heard.

“I felt it too,” Alistair said, coming up beside him.

“Darkspawn,” Niko warned the others. “Big ones.”

Drawing their weapons, they were prepared for the ogre that thundered in from the caverns, and the second one just around the corner. Oghren hacked away at the first beast, Morrigan aiding him with spells. Niko and Alistair handled the second, the warrior facing it head on while Niko crippled it from behind. A powerful backstab to the spine, the creature roared. Alistair jumped, using the ogre’s knee as a lift-up so he could ram his sword into its throat.

Niko rolled out of the way of the toppling body, blood gushing from the devastating wound as Alistair leapt back.

He stood, fellow Grey Warden at his side, and they both looked to see Morrigan and Oghren were victorious as well.

A single, colossal door lay ahead of them, the obvious path… but a discouraging one.

However, when they tried to open it, they found it was locked tight.

"We tried to escape, but they found us. They took us all, turned us..." Hespith’s voice came from somewhere deeper in the tunnels, giving them pause.

She was obviously tainted enough that she could get through and locate an alternative route without the spawn attacking her. She was too close to being one of them… As any tainted person would eventually…

...This wasn’t the time to dwell on that though.

“Come on,” Niko urged quietly, his eyes landing on another door nearby.

This room was eerie and still, a perfect preservation of dwarven architecture, long untouched… except for its ghosts.

"Bownammar. I thought it would have fallen into dust by now," Oghren commented.

Niko led the way in, cautious. The dwarven spirits standing in a line were unmoving, but still guarding. At the end of the room, he found the key he needed, perched atop a pedestal.

As soon as he swiped it, the energy within the room changed -- a tight pull on all his nerves. And with it, so did its ethereal guardsmen change, too. The spirits attacked from both sides, drawing their axes.

It wasn’t the first time Niko’s team faced down ghosts, though he couldn’t say the same for Oghren. The dwarf seemed to take to it though, fighting back like any other opponent. Really, what else can you do when something is coming at you with a weapon? They didn't know how it worked, but it did.

When the spirits had lost, they dispersed in dreamy, white tendrils that Niko found almost as disturbing as demons.

He led them back out of the room, alert as could be.

His heart stammered, almost jumping, when he heard that disturbed voice resounding back to them again.

"The men, they kill... they're merciful. But the women, they want. They want to touch, to mold, to change until you are filled with them..."

As they listened to her footsteps padding away, sickness roiled in Niko’s stomach. The millions of darkspawn festering in the deep suddenly filled his mind. They crawled over all surfaces and out of shadowed crevices, spreading their taint and filth, swarming the lands like an infestation.

They all came from somewhere.

"They took Laryn,” Hespith told them, as they followed her voice through the tunnels past the ominous door. “They made her eat the others, our friends. She tore off her husband's face and drank his blood."

She sounded closer now. As they continued through the tunnels, they could see her shadow on the wall ahead, limping forward.

"And while she ate, she grew. She swelled and turned grey and she smelled like them. They remade her in their image. Then she made more of them.”

All was silent except their footsteps. Hespith’s were dragging and irregular… until they finally stopped completely when she turned the corner ahead.

“... Broodmother..."

The ground beneath their boots seemed to be made of flesh and gore as they got closer. Around the corner, they didn’t find Hespith or Branka.

Niko, at the head of the group, took an immediate step backwards when he saw the creature.

The broodmother was a lurched figure, heavily burdened with swelled and sagging skin, so large and bulbous Niko was unsure which parts were her body and not merely gore-splattered boulders. The ground was covered in thick chords of bleeding tissue and flesh. Hard, twisted tentacles danced menacingly around the creature. She was ready for them, much more than they ever could have been for her.

 _It could all end here_ , Niko realized. And he dodged a heavy tentacle coming down to crush him. It slapped the sticky ground with a “ _whoosh_!” as he regained his footing.

“Watch out for the tentacles!” he ordered, “Keep an eye on each other! We  _have_  to work together!” He lifted his dagger in time to slice the end of a tentacle shooting out towards him. It recoiled in pain and Niko ran and dodged around another so he could get to the mother herself. He stabbed both blades into her body, catching all fat but nothing vital. Still blood seeped from the wounds and she screamed in pain. A heavy hand slapped the elf away, sending him reeling.

 _‘Was this Laryn? Branka?…Some other dwarf?’_  He wondered. He quickly dodged another blow, landing on his knees, his breath coming in great huffs. There were so many tentacles blocking her from their attacks, trying to strangle them. Whoever it was… Niko couldn’t imagine a more awful fate. He felt angry for the person she had been, now reduced to a mass of flesh and tainted eggs. A monster.

Hot rage surged through his body, bringing him to his feet just in time to see a cadre of hurlocks and shrieks emerge from the dark corners, running towards them to attack. Morrigan was their closest target, and Niko bolted towards them, raising his sword and dagger to take a hurlock head on.

They would  _not_  touch her.

Snarling, Niko sliced through several darkspawn, his flurry of powerful swipes fueled by rage. Morrigan fought beside him, freezing targets for him to shatter. Oghren and Alistair were working their way through the tentacles, putting all their might into each swing of their weapons.

Niko let his frenzy boil, slaughtering spawn after spawn… until he got sloppy. He wasn’t aware of the tentacle until it wrapped around his midsection and brought him several feet into the air.

He squirmed, but it only made her hold tighter, pressuring his muscles and organs. With pained shouts, he hacked downward at the tentacle trap, cutting it open, but the bleeding wounds didn’t lessen its grip.

“Here comes Oghren!!!”

The broodmother wailed as one of her tentacles were cut clean off with the edge of an ax. Niko came colliding with the wet, sticky floor, the impact lessened by the dead appendage still cradling him.

His insides hurting and his head pounding, Niko reached for a health potion attached at his belt and brought it to his lips with shaky hands. The pain receded steadily, and he dropped the empty vial so he could pick up his blades once more.

He had to stop letting his rage blind him in battle. Niko took a cooling breath as he pulled back his sword, a shriek running at him on all fours. He was ready, as if his attacker came in slow motion. When the shriek closed in, he exhaled. The sword dropped on the darkspawn, slicing through in a fatal swipe.

Blood poured from the roaring creature, but still she did not relent. Her torn appendages flailed in the air… dragged on the ground… Her children fell and died around her. She raged on, defending herself, her brood, and her lair until Alistair took an opening. Hitching a ride on one of the weakened tentacles, he found the height and momentum he need to bring his sword straight down through the back of her head. Emitting one last ghastly roar, the body sagged in a naked heap.

The stench of this den made the room they found Hespith in seem more comparable to Orlesian flowers. The sickly smell of death and taint and slaughter was too vile to bear.

Covering his face with his arm didn’t help either, as Niko was splattered with gore himself, gritty bits of blood and flesh sticking to his leather armor.

As they turned to leave, a figure crawling up onto the rocks high above the broodmother’s corpse caught their attention.

"That's where they come from.”

All eyes turned to Hespith, standing shakily above them.

“That's why they hate us... that's why they need us. That's why they take us... that's why they feed us. But the true abomination... is not that it occurred, but that it was allowed. Branka... my love...”

Her clouded eyes turned to Niko once more. This time it did not chill him. He was already too sober, too sad.

“The Stone has punished me, dream-friend,” Hespith told him. “I am dying of something worse than death.”

She stepped back from where they could see her, disappearing into the shadows.

“Betrayal."

Niko held still, as did his companions. They watched the spot they’d last seen her. Watched and listened, but all was silent. His lips parted, ready to call for her. But he knew she was gone.

And he knew it was better.


	17. Party Banter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back from the Deep Roads, it's time for Niko and his companions to hit the open road again.
> 
> Time for the juicy gossip!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm late again, I know. I was sick for a week with the flu and/or bronchitis. Ugh. This is kind of a filler chapter too, but the good news is that the next chapter is already almost done so I might just have it up early. :-]
> 
> Lots of dialogue in this chapter and, again, I'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing. Suppose it depends on whether you enjoy dialogue. I included the "juicy gossip" conversation with Alistair here because it's too funny to leave out. But I changed it up a little bit since I got it so late in the game and I wanted it to make more sense after certain events and considering the fact that he's been travelling with some of these people for the better part of a year. And though I realize the "are you jealous?" line only comes up if you are in a romance with Alistair and therefore I shouldn't have gotten it with my male Warden... I did get it. It must be a glitch. Sometimes when I switch to Alistair he even mumbles "my love?" It's totally awkward and hilarious. But anyway, I got the line and used it in-game so I included it here too. Just a little friendly teasing between Wardens. Don't take it as an indication that Alistair likes Niko... Unless you want to, of course. You can headcanon that if you like, certainly.
> 
> Okay I'll stop babbling and just say thank you to all my readers. Thanks for the reviews and follows and everything. :-]
> 
> Chapter Rating: T
> 
> Pairing: Zevran/(M)Tabris

Zevran stepped inside the tavern, the hefty paw steps of a mabari following just behind him.

He glanced down to the hound at his heels, the dry tongue hanging from his open mouth a clear sign that he was thirsty.

“Would you like a drink, my friend?” the elf asked him.

Gideon raised his head, giving Zevran a doggy grin and panting at him.

Zevran went to the bar and asked for a bowl of water, then led the dog up to his room.

As soon as the bowl was set on the floor, Gideon was on it, slopping water everywhere.

Zevran smirked and walked away to go sit on the bed. “I noticed some dog drool in my pack this morning,” he told Gideon.

The intelligent animal lifted his head only long enough to give Zevran a yap.

“Not that I like to make accusations,” Zevran went on as he started to tug his boots off. “And I even appreciate the artistry behind a good burgle when I see it, to tell the truth. But leaving all that drool as evidence? Sloppy.”

“Woof!”

“I'll take that as an apology.”

“Woof!”

“I'm so glad you're pleased. It really is quite something to find such enthusiasm in one's companions.”

Gideon lifted his head again, muzzle dripping with water as he went over to Zevran and jumped up on the bed. “Woof! Woof!”

“I agree,” Zevran replied, grinning. “Go team!”

Gideon licked excess water from his chops before he happily nuzzled his way onto Zevran’s lap, resting his head there.

Sighing, Zevran idly stroked the dog’s head, staring over at the far wall. It had been about two weeks since the Grey Wardens and Morrigan had set out into the Deep Roads with a drunkard dwarf as their guide. He supposed it was too soon to start worrying, considering just how deep into the Deep Roads they were probably going. Still, he couldn’t help but wish he was down there with them sometimes.

It was a little disappointing when Niko chose not to bring him along. Though he recoiled at the idea of being stuck underground with filthy darkspawn, giant spiders, and who knows what else… he wasn’t sure if that was all worse than constantly wondering when or if the Warden would return.

Niko’s faithful mabari seemed to be of the same mind. After a few days of dealing with his master’s absence, Gideon had begun whining outside the door. So Zevran let the dog sleep with him in the rented tavern room. It smelled more like Niko in there, to Gideon’s relief, and Zevran had a hard time keeping the dog off the bed.

It wasn’t just the sex Zevran missed either. He longed for the other elf’s company; their playful banter, training together, and even their more serious discussions. The assassin realized all this and it… it confused him. It surprised him. Zevran didn’t think himself capable of wanting someone this much. And yet he did. He hadn’t felt so strongly about anyone since… well...

“They’re back!”

The door to his room that hung ajar suddenly swung wide open, and Zevran’s gaze snapped up to see Leliana barging in.

“The news is all over the commons!” Her voice was lifted with excitement. “The Grey Wardens returned and a king was announced!”

Gideon barked happily as he jumped down from the bed. Zevran gave a smile, rising to his feet and brushing little dog hairs from his tunic. Relief flooded him, a refreshing energy that pooled into his heart and spread through his body.

“What are we waiting for? To the Assembly Chambers then.”

-o-o-o-

The “News of the Hour” was shouted all throughout the Diamond Quarter.

“Bhelen is king! Future of Orzammar secure!”

Outside the Chamber’s closed doors, a crowd had formed but was beginning to disperse by the time Zevran arrived with Leliana, Wynne, and Gideon.

The assassin stood quiet and still, using his sensitive ears to spy on the information weaving its way through the lips of the crowd. He heard the new King’s name mentioned quite a bit, and something about Grey Wardens, Paragon Caridin, and a crown.

Finally when the doors opened and people began to exit the chambers, Niko and his company were easy to spot. Not just because they were the tallest among the crowd of dwarves either. They were filthy; hair, faces, and armor all one uniform russet color, a sweat-streaked layer of dust and blood coating their skin.

They looked weary as they walked down the stone steps, ignoring jibes from Harrowmont supporters and the like. All Zevran wanted to do was pull Niko into his arms and hold him… Which was why he did the exact opposite; remaining at the back of the crowd, where Sten and Shale now joined him.

“You did it!” Leliana congratulated them, a big smile on her face. “Ooh! And as a reward, I am giving you all haircuts after you wash up. You need them.”

“You _will not_ touch me,” was Morrigan’s curt reply.

“I could use one,” Alistair admitted, pulling at the strands near his forehead. “Though first I’d like to sleep for about a week.”

A loud bark drew Niko’s attention to the mabari bounding up to him. He knelt down on his knees where he could be eye-to-eye with the dog, and Gideon’s stubby tail wagged cheerfully back and forth as he leaned his big head into Niko’s shoulder, nearly knocking him over. The elf smiled and lovingly put his arms around the hound’s thick neck for a moment before getting to his feet and patting him on the head.

Looking up, Niko’s eyes landed on the one sight he needed to see more than anything.

He edged through the other bodies in his determination to get to Zevran, whose heart sang at the sight of him. To see that Niko’s smile grew with every step that brought them closer… it sundered all of Zevran’s defenses.

The elven Warden stopped in front of him, his eyes tired, but still he was on his toes with delight now that they were together again.

“Miss me?” he asked.

Zevran’s eyebrows went up, pleasantly surprised at his demeanor. He smirked. “Like a one-eyed whore misses the stairs.”

Niko’s eyebrows knitted together in concern and confusion, though he gave a huff of laughter. “I’m guessing that’s a lot?”

“Mm. She quickly became a one-eyed whore with a broken leg.” He laughed.

“Zev, that’s horrible.”

Before Zevran could respond again, Niko yanked him forward into a kiss. It wasn’t heated or drawn out, but for the briefest of moments it was full of all the passion and tenderness in the world, and Zevran sensed that it was something the Warden needed. And though there was still some hesitancy, it was more than they’d ever done in front of other people. Niko withdrew so he wouldn’t violate their unspoken arrangement to keep things professional in the public eye. However, Zevran’s hand suddenly went to the back of his head, fingers weaving into dusty strands of dark hair to pull him back in for a longer kiss. Niko’s body tensed in surprise before melting into Zevran and kissing back with equal fervor, deep yearning translated between their lips.

Onlookers be damned. They both needed this.

Zevran’s amber eyes met Niko’s green ones as they parted. Both smiled knowingly and stepped away. They’d have time for a proper reunion later.

Niko reintroduced everyone to Oghren and informed them that he would be joining them when they left Orzammar. The dwarf departed for his own house, agreeing to meet them at the Hall of Heroes.

Gideon was right on Niko’s heels on the way back to Tapster’s Tavern, his head bumping into Niko’s side, prompting his master to give him a pat on the head.

There were no heroic tales regaled on the walk back. Though everyone was visibly sobered when Alistair explained that they’d seen the archdemon up close.

At the tavern, everyone returned to their rooms to pack up their things and let Morrigan, Alistair, and Niko wash up.

The wooden tub brought to Niko’s room was filled with water just warm enough to be tolerable. Despite the lukewarm temperature, the elf was quick to hop in and start scrubbing the dirt, sweat, and blood from his skin. He playfully flicked a bit of water at Gideon who kept sticking his nose into the water.

“Go lay down, boy,” he said, nodding towards the bed.

Gideon barked and gladly jumped onto it, wagging his stub of a tail as he settled to lay down.

“Might as well enjoy it while you can. We’re hitting the road again soon,” Niko told the animal. “Back to sleeping in the dirt.”

“Woof!”

Zevran chuckled from where he stood on the other side of the room, packing up the last of his meager belongings. “To your hound, dirt is a thing to revel in.”

“Well maybe he would have liked the Deep Roads then,” Niko muttered.

“He would have preferred to be at your side I’m sure,” Zevran told him. He closed up his pack and set it down, walking over to the tub.

Niko looked up at Zevran as the Antivan lifted a bucket full of water, and he closed his eyes as it was carefully poured over his head. Kneeling down beside the tub, Zevran ran his fingers through wet hair to brush it back out of Niko’s face. The Warden’s bright eyes blinked open at him, water droplets trickling down his tempting lips.

“He was quite distraught while you were away,” Zevran assured him. He maneuvered around the tub behind Niko, who closed his eyes in contentment as Zevran continue to wash his hair. “You should have seen how he paced about the room. Agh! So depressing.”

“And what did you do while I was gone?” Niko asked, trying to be nonchalant. “I’m sure you found some company in the tavern…?”

Zevran frowned, his fingers slowing in their path down Niko’s dripping chest. _What was that supposed to mean?_ The suggestion made him wonder. Was the Warden asking out of insecurity? …Or perhaps _he_ was the one who sought another’s company while they were apart. Trying to justify it, was he?

“What about you, Warden?” he asked flippantly, though his tone slightly hardened from these thoughts. “Did you seek companionship with Morrigan while you were gone? Or perhaps with Alistair, hm?”

The moment the words left his mouth, Zevran regretted them. This… _jealousy_ … it was so unlike him.

“What,” Niko bit back. “You’re not going to suggest Oghren too?”

Zevran’s nose scrunched with distaste. “Perish the thought…”

The harsh silence settled over them as they stewed in their own contemplations. They’d never discussed this part of their relationship. Zevran, for one, had never had to worry about such things before. His bedmates were always free to come and go as they pleased and so was he. Yet it was not the same this time. He didn’t like the idea of Niko taking up another partner while they were apart. And truthfully, the option hadn’t crossed his mind at all either.

No, he’d quickly realized many months ago that nothing was the same with his dear Warden. Zevran had never intended that happening, yet it had. And now he had a complicated relationship and an upset lover in his arms. He just wanted to turn the conversation back around to their easy chatter, but he didn’t know how.

“So you weren’t worried at all?” Niko asked him unexpectedly. He was quiet, almost afraid to ask.

Zevran didn’t respond right away, stalling for an answer. In truth, he’d worried every night that he’d never see the Warden again. But how could he admit to such crushing dependency? He was an assassin… He should depend on no one but himself…

He poured a bit more water over Niko’s head, running his fingers through soft strands of hair again. “Worry about you, my dear?” He gave a low chuckle. “I should be more worried for the darkspawn, surely.”

Niko smiled a little and shut his eyes while the other elf went back to washing him. He was just as eager as Zevran was to get over that bitter wall they had hit.

“I haven’t seen so many in one place since Ostagar…” He said quietly, almost to himself, as he remembered. “They’re like a walking disease… Spreading their corruption to every corner… Every minute down there, I worried Oghren or Morrigan might get tainted… And where they come from, Zev,” his voice suddenly wavered. “What they do to women... what they force on them… to make more of their kind...”

Zevran’s arms slowly wrapped around Niko’s bare shoulders, his forehead resting against the back of the Warden’s wet hair. “Shh.” He placed a kiss behind Niko’s ear, their little spat completely forgotten now. “I’m sure you won’t be going back there for a long time.”

“I want to go back,” Niko said, surprising both himself and Zevran. It was true. As relieved as he was to be out of the Deep Roads, part of him felt like there was more to do back there. “I hated it down there. But I want to kill more of them. As many as I possibly can. They _need_ to die for what they’re doing. _I_ need to stop them.”

“You are a Grey Warden,” Zevran responded, holding onto him tighter. “You will.”

Zevran didn’t know about the Calling, Niko knew, but with those words… he couldn’t help thinking of it. If he didn’t die of something else first, the Deep Roads and all those darkspawn were, without doubt, his future. He would take out as many as he could until he died on his feet. The idea of perishing alone in the dark, surrounded by filthy monsters had been terrifying at first. He had more than one nightmare about it. And it was still terrifying…

But thinking about that broodmother and the vile process Laryn was forced into so she could birth more darkspawn… it made him furious. It made him want to go down there and slay them all. And suddenly the Calling didn’t sound like it was just some sad, Grey Warden tradition anymore. It was their duty to take out as many darkspawn as possible. To protect people from their evil.

That was a Grey Warden’s calling.

“This tub is getting cold.” Zevran’s voice pulled him from his thoughts.

Niko turned and gave him an unexpected kiss before getting out of the chilly water.

As he stood, Zevran’s eyes wandered his body, taking in every bruise. And with his face now clean of dirt and blood, Zevran could clearly see where the discolorations were, plus the mending cut on his lip.

“I was under the impression that you took Morrigan along in case you needed healing.”

“She did heal me,” Niko told him. He glanced down at the welts wrapped around his abdomen. It still looked better than it had a week ago. “I got hugged by a tentacle,” he explained.

Zevran gave a little smirk and pulled the other close against him, not caring about getting his clothes wet as his hands settled on the smooth, naked body in his arms. “I’ll be sure to be gentle with you tonight then.”

-o-o-o-

“Give me a moment,” Oghren sighed.

Niko only vaguely heard him, too busy staring up at that wide sky, where delicate, white snowflakes fell from every endless corner. He’d almost forgotten what it felt like to have the heavens opened up to him all the time. To be out of that stifling warmth and shoved back out into frigid Ferelden winter air… Niko had never been so grateful for cold in his life.

“By the Stone, I feel like I’m about to fall off the world with all that sky up there,” Oghren expressed.

“Well, take your time,” Niko said, smiling as he continued to stare up at the grey-blue expanse above him. “I need you ready to fight.”

“If I could fight Randar Vollney’s second after downing fifteen lichen-ales in half an hour, I’m not going to be put off by a high sodding ceiling.”

Niko smirked down at him, finding the gruff little man quite endearing after all that time spent with him underground.

“Well, let’s get moving,” the dwarf went on. “We’re losing… whatchacallit? Daylight.”

Without another word, they continued on their way, down the mountain pass. The smile remained on Niko’s face as he led the way. Alistair soon sidled up next to him, leaning in to speak almost conspiratorially.

“You know, I could almost kiss the ground,” the warrior confessed.

“I’d pay to see you do it,” Niko teased. Looking ahead, he could see Bodahn and Sandal’s wagon up on the Imperial Highway. The merchant dwarf was waving to them from afar, so Niko waved back.

“So I’m wondering something,” Alistair said, drawing the elf’s attention back to him. “I’d like to know your thoughts about some of our travelling companions. Do you mind if I ask?”

“Time for juicy gossip, hm?” Niko smirked.

Alistair grinned in return. “I’ve got this nefarious plan to go around to each of them and secretly tell them all the nasty things you said. That way they’ll mutiny and I shall become the group leader!”

While Alistair gave his best try at an evil laugh, Niko only chuckled and shook his head.

“Very cute. So you know, I’m laughing at you, not with you.”

“Ouch. Now I’m wounded,” Alistair said, though the big smile on his face said otherwise. “Look at me, bleeding all over the place. Seriously though, I’m only curious. I’ve had plenty of time to form my own opinions and I just want to see if yours are any different.”

“Sure,” Niko answered. “Only if you tell me your opinion, as well.”

“Just try and stop me,” Alistair said, while Niko glanced back to make sure the others were out of earshot. “Let’s see… where should I begin? How about Oghren? You must have an opinion on the smell at the very least.”

“I thought you two would get along,” Niko replied.

“As long as he stays downwind, sure. Once he’s had a bit to drink, however… forget that, there is no ‘bit to drink’ with him.”

Niko looked surprised at Alistair. He hadn’t known how much of a gossip the man truly was until now. _‘Suppose now I know who starts up the rumor mill in camp,’_ he thought to himself.

“Where _did_ he get all that liquor in the Deep Roads?” Niko asked. He hadn’t failed to notice how the dwarf passed out slurring Branka’s name every other night down there.

“Where? You didn’t think that big pack he brings with him is full of equipment, did you? The man is a walking brewery.” Alistair laughed. “Not that it’s all bad. Dwarven ale has its charms, I suppose. I just don’t think you need to drink to the point of blindness _every_ time.”

“I actually rather like him,” Niko said with a smile.

“I would, too, if he could stick to the ribald stories and not so much with the belching and projectile vomiting.” They both winced at that. “How he lifts his sword is a bit of a mystery. Though I suppose the point is that he does lift it. And so long as we can point him in the right direction, he charges too. He has gusto, I’ll give him that… What about Sten?” Alistair moved on. “The way he looks at me, with those eyes… creepy. And he’s so quiet for someone so big.”

Niko shrugged. “I respect him.”

“The more I talk to him, the more reasonable he does seem. His philosophy is so strange, but it doesn’t sound at all as vile as the Chantry describes it.”

Niko wasn’t sure he agreed there. Sten had once told him that the qunari cut out the tongues of their mages. It sounded pretty vile to him, not that he wanted to bring it up.

“And yet he killed all those people. He doesn’t even deny it. Doesn’t that bother you?”

“It would bother me more if he lied about it,” Niko said. “He seems to regret what he did at least.”

“Hmm. I’m not so sure that his regret means the same as it would for us. The qunari sense of honor is… a bit hard to grasp. For me, anyway… What about Leliana? I never did ask you what you think about her vision. Does it sound a little crazy?”

“You don’t believe in religious visions and miracles?”

“Even the Chantry believes most claims of visions and such are usually people’s minds playing tricks on them. Wishful thinking at best. I’m not sure what I think.”

“Well… I believe that _she_ believes in her vision.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Alistair replied, his eyes narrowing skeptically. “Anyway, ever since we killed Marjolaine, she seems different, don’t you think?

Niko nodded. “She’s questioning herself.”

“I don’t know what to make of her. If you look at her when she doesn’t see you, she just looks so… so sad. I almost feel guilty that we took her away from her life.”

“It was her choice,” Niko said. “Besides, we know what happened to Lothering.”

“Yes, I know. And I hated leaving all those people. Still, I feel badly for her.”

“Anyone else?” Niko prompted after a little while.

“…Morrigan. Do you trust her? Think about it… maybe she had us kill Flemeth for some other reason than what she said.”

“You two still really don’t like each other, do you?”

“Well aside from the fact that she’s a complete and utter _bitch_ , no…” Alistair scowled. “I don’t like her at all. Why? Do you?”

Niko met Alistair’s inquisitive eyes, unblinking. “I like her just fine.”

“Well she doesn’t try to belittle you every chance she gets. Now what about Zevran?”

“What about him?” Niko asked, unsure whether or not he was surprised that Alistair brought him up.

“You don’t really trust him, do you?” Alistair asked. “Or believe his so-called vow?”

“Why? Are you jealous?” Niko teased.

“Well… no. Not really. Of course not!” Niko giggled while Alistair stumbled over his words. “It’s… it’s still a serious question. Do you believe him or not?”

“Of course I do,” Niko answered seriously.

“Why?” Alistair prodded. “That’s a lot of trust to put in someone who tried to kill you. Especially when you’re always… you know… _alone_ with him.”

Niko shook his head, smiling. “I like Zev. I’m giving him a chance.”

“Hmm. Well, if you are, then maybe I should, too. But I’m _still_ keeping an eye on him,” Alistair added sternly. “He’s just too shifty.”

Niko chuckled. “Thanks for looking out for me, Alistair.”

“We Grey Wardens have to stick together,” the warrior said with a happy grin. “Enough of that though. I think my curiosity is sated.”

They travelled on for some time, Bodahn’s wagon wheeling just behind the group. Niko enlightened the dwarf and his son all about Orzammar and its new king.

“Have you heard any rumors on the road, Bodahn?”

“I’m hearing many tales of corpses clawing out of their graves all over. Not just people, either. Animals too!”

Niko’s brows furrowed in confusion, but he listened on.

“Just yesterday, a farmer told me about the kitten his daughter had buried behind his barn. Little thing came back to life and crawled up, mewling as loud as you please. His daughter was delighted… at least until it just about chewed her finger off. Strange days, I tell you.”

“That’s…. not my area of expertise,” Niko said, shaking his head. He’d seen plenty of animated corpses on his journeys, but he’d never heard of stories like that. “Have you heard anything else?”

“I’ve heard some strange word out of the Brecilian Forest that Dalish elves are being called together to form some kind of army. And it’s to help us, not attack us. Doesn’t that beat all? When I first heard that, I thought for sure we were done for.”

Niko smiled to himself. “That’s good news.”

About halfway to Redcliffe Village, night fell and they set up camp beside Lake Calenhad. His armor lying on the ground beside him, Niko finally had his tent erected when he sensed someone approaching him from behind.

As he turned to face a smirking redhead, strong arms suddenly wrapped around him, holding him still.

“What’s this?” the elven Warden asked after hearing Zevran’s laughter in his ear behind him.

“I did say I would give you a haircut,” Leliana replied, withdrawing a shiny pair of scissors out from behind her back.

_Snip. Snip._

“Oh…” Niko frowned deeply as Zevran manhandled him over to a stump and sat him down.

"When is the last time you had a haircut?" the bard asked him.

"The week before my-....."

_Wedding._

Well he wasn't about to bring  _that_  up.

"About a week before Duncan conscripted me," he amended.

"That's a long time," Leliana chastised.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing??”

“Of course I do,” Leliana insisted, eyeing up her sharp blades. “Who do you think has been cutting Alistair’s hair?”

Alistair passed them, giving a wave and running a hand through his recently trimmed hair.

Zevran frowned a little. “Mm. Perhaps I should do it,” he said, gently taking a handful of Niko’s dark hair and letting the wispy strands fall.

“You don’t like the haircut I gave him?” Leliana asked, raising a sharp eyebrow.

“I am simply saying that it is not so very different than how it looked before.”

“So you don’t like it…”

As the two argued over who would do the deed, Niko buried his face in his hands, muttering to himself. “Oh Maker…”


	18. My Enemies and Your Enemies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back in Denerim, Niko finds Antivan Crows everywhere; from merchant stalls, to back alleys, to his bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops! I meant to post this the day before my operation (it was really minor, no worries), not the day after. Sorry bout that.
> 
> Chapter Rating: T
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> Pairing: Zevran/(M)Tabris
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> EDIT 4/17/2014: I wasn't happy with the scenes with Ignacio and Taliesen, so I changed them just a bit, mostly just added some stuff from Zev's POV.

With the worst of winter behind them - and freshly cut hair - the party arrived at Redcliffe village on a sunny, breezy morning. The first thing they did was split up. Niko and Sten went straight to Dwyn's house to retrieve his Asala, doing so with no trouble at all from the tough dwarf and his mates.

"Are you sure you are a Grey Warden?" Sten asked, holding his precious great-sword in two hands, as gently and with as much regard as someone would hold their own child. "I think you must be an  _Ashkaari_  to find a single lost blade in a country at war."

He was actually smiling openly, and Niko found it was quite infectious.

"What will you do now?" he asked the qunari warrior.

"My sword is in my hand again, I should put it to use." He smiled more, sharing a knowing look with the Warden. "And I could deliver a much more satisfying answer to the Arishok's question if the Blight were ended, don't you agree?"

Niko grinned up at him. "Absolutely."

"Then lead the way."

Meeting back up with the others, he did just that, leading the way to the castle where Arl Eamon and his brother waited.

The Arl was eager to leave for Denerim. Carriages were arranged to take them, cutting the team's usual travelling time to the city in half.

Even on a road trip, Arl Eamon tended toward tactical conversation, rallying Niko's sense of determination as he sat beside the older man on the carriage.

"Denerim is the heart and soul of Ferelden. It was the city of King Calenhad, the birthplace of Andraste. As stubborn as a mabari, and as good to have on your side. If we defeat Loghain here, the rest of the nation will follow us. By calling the Landsmeet, I've struck the first blow. The advantage, for the moment, is ours. He will have little choice but to show himself, to oppose us directly. He  _will_  strike back at us. The only question that remains is how soon…"

"What's that ahead?" Alistair, seated beside them, asked.

Niko glanced up, not seeing it right away. What he noticed first was the faint trail of smoke drifting upward. Where it was coming from… was a giant hole in the ground. He hopped down from the carriage, ignoring the confused sputtering coming from the Arl. Leliana followed him, just as curious. They stared down into the gaping hole in the earth, finding a chunk of smoking rock.

"Ooh…" Leliana smiled at the discovery while Niko stared on in confusion. "That's a meteor."

"Is it valuable?" Niko asked.

"Of course it is," she answered. "You know, if you find a smith capable enough, they could make something of it. Something to treasure."

Niko carefully climbed down into the crater, taking a thick cloth out of his pack big enough to wrap around the chunky rock. Leliana reached down, giving him a hand-up out of the steep hole.

"Too bad I'm banned from Wade's Emporium," he commented as they walked back to the wagons.

He climbed back up into his seat beside the Arl, grinning at the dusty sack full of warm rock in his hands.

"What have you got there?" Alistair asked, smirking at the childish look of discovery on his friend's face.

"Space rock," he answered. He tucked it away on his lap and looked to the Arl. "So you were saying… Loghain will have to face us. Do you think he'll try to assassinate you again?"

"I'm sure Loghain knows doing something like that would put him under much suspicion at this point," the Arl answered. "Still, I will have my guards. And I hope the two of you will take precautions as well."

"We'll be alright," Niko answered, watching at the road ahead. "We've thwarted his attacks before."

He glanced back at Zevran on the wagon behind theirs. The Antivan met his gaze, giving him a wink.

Niko smiled back. They'd be just fine.

-o-o-o-

They did not have long to wait for Loghain's to show himself. He arrived shortly after they did to Arl Eamon's Denerim estate. He was clad in shining armor fit for a king, and flanked by a grey-haired snake of a man in leather armor and a strong-looking soldier with her dark hair pulled back.

"Loghain," Arl Eamon spoke, turning from the Wardens to greet the man. "This is… an honor, that the regent would find time to greet me personally."

Niko raised an eyebrow at the Arl, wondering why he was being so courteous to the man who tried to kill him. He feared he'd never understand politics... He feared even more than one day he'd have to.

"How could I not welcome a man so important as to call every lord in Ferelden away from his estates while a Blight claws at our land?" Loghain demanded.

"The Blight is why I'm here," Arl Eamon said, turning very serious. "With Cailain dead, Ferelden must have a king to lead it against the darkspawn."

"Ferelden  _has_  a strong leader," the regent insisted, his fist clenched. "It's  _Queen_. And I lead her armies."

Niko couldn't stand to stay quiet anymore. "Considering Ostagar, perhaps we need a better general."

The man's steely eyes fell on Niko, taking a step toward him. "And who is this Eamon? Some new stray you picked up on the road? And here I thought it was only royal bastards you play the nursemaid to, not elven derelicts."

"Well, you're admitting the 'royal' part. That's a start," Alistair murmured in the back as Niko's bright eyes narrowed into a dangerous glare directed at the regent.

"I'm Niko," he bit out. "Of the Grey Wardens."

"You have my sympathies on what happened to your order," Loghain told him. "It is unfortunate that they chose to turn against Ferelden."

_Liar!_

Meeting the man's gaze, Niko held his ground though he felt so on edge. His blood boiled, his body itching to attack. "I don't accept the sympathies of deserters and regicides," he sneered.

"You should curb your tongue," Loghain replied, his voice rasping with indignation. "This is my city, and no safe place to speak treason. For anyone."

Glaring, Niko bit down on his own tongue, holding back a litany of curses. His eyes, full of hate, followed Loghain as he ignored Niko in favor of Arl Eamon.  _'No,'_ he thought. _'This is_ _ **my**_ _city. I live here. My family lives here. And I will be the one to defend it.'_

"There is talk that your illness left you feeble, Eamon," Loghain spoke down to him. "Some worry that you may no longer be fit to advise Ferelden."

"Illness?" Eamon crossed his arms. "Why not call your poison by its true name? Not everyone at the Landsmeet will cast aside their loyalties as easily as you and these… sycophants."

Loghain paced across the room, not looking at any of them, as if he were above it. "How long you've been gone from court, Eamon. Don't you recognize Rendon Howe, Arl of Amaranthine and Teryn of Highever?" he asked, stopping beside the snake.

"And current Arl of Denerim," Howe added, in the most nasal, annoying voice Niko had ever heard. "After Urien's  _unfortunate_  fate at Ostagar. The regent has been… generous to those who prove loyal."

Wait… Arl Howe…

_The regent appointed Rendon Howe of Amaranthine as the new Arl of Denerim. First thing he did was lead a purge of the alienage…_

The words rang in Niko's ears as his body trembled at the force of rage that welled in him like a volcano.

He stepped forward, blazing eyes on Arl Howe. "So you're the one who butchered my kin?"

Howe looked at him, unimpressed. "When the animals turn against their masters, it is sometimes necessary to cull the herd."

"Come over here and say that, shem." The challenge came through gritted teeth. It was almost a plea. He wanted to waste this man more than the Archdemon.

"You are either very bold or very stupid to threaten the teryn before witnesses," Loghain's soldier warned.

Niko's wild glare fell on her.  _'Perhaps I won't leave any witnesses.'_

He tried to hold against the anger in his heart, the battle cry filling his mind. He could barely hear Loghain chastising the soldier. Cauthrien her name was.

"I had hoped to talk to you down from this rash course, Eamon," Loghain went on. "Our people are frightened. Our king is dead. Our land is under siege. We must be united now, if we are to endure this crisis. Your own sister, Queen Rowan, fought tirelessly to see Ferelden restored. Would you see her work destroyed? You divide our nation and weaken our efforts against the Blight with your selfish ambitions to the throne!"

Niko was surprised by the passion in Loghain's voice. He really did want to protect the country. Of course he did. But why lie about the Grey Wardens? Or poison Arl Eamon? Why spread all these lies? Why go so far…? His  _own_  actions had divided the nation.

Putting all of his concentration into ignoring the fact that Howe's face was within dagger-throwing distance, Niko spoke calmly. "What efforts can there be when you outlaw the Grey Wardens?"

"Cailan depended on the Grey Warden's prowess against the darkspawn, and look how well that ended. Let us speak of reality, rather than tall tales. Stories will not save us."

Arl Eamon's face fell into a deep frown. "I cannot forgive what you've done, Loghain. Perhaps the maker can, but not I. Our people deserve a king of the Theirin bloodline. Alistair will be the one to lead us to victory in this Blight."

"Oh, is that all I have to do?" Alistair muttered. "No pressure…"

Loghain stepped toward Arl Eamon, looking him in the eyes. "The emperor of Orlais also thought I could not bring him down. Expect no more mercy than I showed him. There is  _nothing_  I would not do for my homeland."

He turned, followed by Cauthrien and Howe, armor clinking as they walked out of the estate. Niko's eyes didn't leave Arl Howe's back until the man was out of sight. He swore he'd put his daggers there.

"Why is he doing this?" he questioned as he turned to Arl Eamon.

"Maker knows," Eamon sighed. "Perhaps he's gone mad. I would have imagined pigs would fly before Loghain Mac Tir would turn against our king."

"Have you known Loghain a long time?" Niko asked.

"My sister married King Maric while he was still in exile. At that time, he and Loghain were inseparable. The wild prince who'd never seen the inside of a castle, and the farmer's son. When Loghain joined Maric's rebels, he was just a rawboned boy. But he got on one knee to swear that he would see Ferelden free or die trying."

"You mean during the Orlesian occupation?" That was a bit ahead of Niko's time, but he knew the history about as well as the next person.

"Yes. Maric's mother was the 'Rebel Queen', the one who kept the heart of Ferelden beating when so much of it seemed dead. It was a tragedy she never lived to see her son take her throne."

Niko nodded, and Arl Eamon steered the conversation to the present.

"We need eyes and ears in the city. Loghain has been here for months. The roots of all his schemes must begin here. The sooner we find them, the better we can turn them to our advantage. Go have a look around and see what you can turn up. Better yet, find the nobles who have arrived for the Landsmeet. Test the waters, see how many will support us."

Frowning, Niko didn't like the idea but he didn't protest. What could he say to convince nobles that a bastard should be king and that Loghain was a traitor? He was an elf in a city where humans thought them less than animals.

"When you're ready to talk strategy, come upstairs to my sitting room. We can lay out our plans for the Landsmeet then."

Niko watched him leave and then looked to Alistair, who gave his friend a sympathetic smile. Though it was clear in the man's eyes that he had problems of his own.

"Alright," Niko sighed. "Let's grab Zevran and Leliana before we head to the Gnawed Noble Tavern."

He suspected they might find a few there. Everyone had already unpacked their things when they arrived, so they were ready to go right away.

The city was bustling as ever. Not far from the estate, they came across a flyer posted to a wall. It read,  _'Don't believe the lies! Friends of the Grey Wardens assemble. The hidden pearl holds the key to resistance. The griffons will rise again.'_

Deciding they might check that out, Niko took the poster down, rolling it up and tucking it into his belt.

They didn't end up doing much mingling with the nobles. Most were too busy or too self-important to be bothered. It didn't seem to matter though. Just listening in on the chatter and gossip between them seemed to reveal some interesting information.

There were some die-hard Loghain supporters, as well as some who were beginning to wonder about the rumors about him. There was also plenty of love for Queen Anora. Niko didn't know a thing about the Queen really, aside from the fact that she's Loghain's daughter. For all he knew, she might even be a good person. They'd have to figure out how they wanted to deal with her later. For now, taking down Loghain in the Landsmeet was the important matter.

They left the tavern only after a short time. Niko didn't feel like they had accomplished much, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't thankful to leave the task for now.

He ran into an old contact in the Market District, a half-elf by the name of Slim Couldry. Slim had grown up in the Alienage and Niko trusted him enough to follow some leads of his. Zevran and Leliana were up to the task. Alistair was a little wary since they were supposed to be preparing for the Landsmeet, but he was on board when a few of the jobs they lined up included striking a blow to Arl Howe and Loghain. Niko could admit that it was kind of refreshing to be doing his old work here in Denerim; bigger jobs this time though. Still, even though they had plenty of time until the Landsmeet, he couldn't ignore that nagging feeling of shirked responsibility. He was a Grey Warden now, not a petty thief. He had important steps to make.

He didn't discuss it with Zevran that night. They were both eager to get each other into bed.

Now, Niko was curled up to Zevran's side, enjoying running his fingers over the assassin's smooth chest.

"You know, I could get to like this," Zevran said with a grin. He was luxuriating in feeling of silk sheets against his bare skin, holding the Warden close with an arm curled around him. "The first time I came to Denerim, I stayed at an inn so filthy the bedbugs had fleas."

Niko assumed that had to be when Zevran had accepted the contract with Howe and Loghain to assassinate him. He ignored that detail though. It was in the past. Instead, he snuggled up closer to Zevran, draping a leg over his and resting his head on the Antivan's shoulder.

"Tell me more about your adventures," he urged quietly.

To Niko's surprise, Zevran went quiet and a little tense. The arm wrapped around him tightened, the assassin idly stroking Niko's bare arm.

"I wouldn't have spoken about it before, but… you have been a good friend," Zevran said, his voice very serious as he gazed up at the high ceiling. "There is no reason for me not to speak of it now."

Niko stared at him, staying silent.

Finally Zevran looked back at him, his amber eyes full of gloom. "There is a reason I accepted this mission in Ferelden, far away from my home, and it had nothing to do with any thought that I might leave the Crows. Meeting you, after all, was quite an accident."

The Warden gave a nod, watching and listening to Zevran intently. He had to smile inwardly at Zevran's wording though. Their meeting was not actually an accident. Zevran set out to find the Grey Wardens. What Zevran meant was that it was an accident to meet someone who would spare him, someone who would come to care for him.

"My last mission before this one… did not end well," Zevran went on.

"What happened?"

Their eyes meeting again, Niko felt fingers still tracing random patterns into his skin. He wasn't sure if Zev even knew he was doing it.

"You must realize that until that day I was cocky and arrogant. I was the best Crow in Antiva, I believed, and I bragged of my conquests often… both as an assassin and lover."

Niko smirked at him, his hand coming up to caress Zevran's cheek. "You were  _more_  cocky and arrogant?"

Zevran chuckled softly, though it sounded a little sad Niko noticed. "Indeed. I was often told I was insufferable… right before I ended up in bed with someone. Such is how it was. One of the Crow masters grew tired of my boasting. My bid for an incredibly difficult mark was accepted, much to my surprise. A wealthy merchant with many guards and completely silent. Taliesen agreed to be part of my team," he said. Niko didn't know who Taliesen was exactly, but he didn't want to interrupt. "As well as an elven lass named Rinna. She was… a marvel. Tough, smooth, wicked. Eyes that gleamed like justice. Everything I thought I desired."

Niko's eyes were wide at the way he spoke of her. With such reverence… "You were in love with her."

"Rinna was special," Zevran replied. "I had closed off my heart, I thought, but she touched something within me. It frightened me."

_Just as you do, my Warden._

The truth drifted around Zevran's mind like a ghost, chilling him to the bone. He tore his gaze away from Niko's wide eyes, finding them too difficult to look at right now. As if the Warden might read the his thoughts.

"When Taliesen revealed to me that Rinna had accepted a bribe from the merchant, told him of our plan, I readily agreed that she needed to pay the price and allowed Taliesen to kill her. Rinna begged me not to. On her knees, with tears in her eyes, she told me that she loved me and had not betrayed us. I laughed in her face and said that even if it were true, I didn't care."

Zevran's words were filled with such sorrow, the wounded look on his face… it broke both their hearts.

"But that wasn't true," Niko said softly, his gaze falling down to the tattooed lines of his lover's hips.

"I convinced myself it was. Taliesen cut her throat and I watched her bleed as she stared up at me." His eyebrows knitted together, a frown on his face. He was disgusted with his actions, but he forced himself to tell it all. "I spat on her for betraying the Crows… When Taliesen and I finally assassinated the merchant, we found the true source of his information. Rinna had not betrayed us after all."

"I'm so sorry, Zev," he whispered, slowly stroking the assassin's chest – an insufficient comfort, Niko believed, much like his words.

"I… wanted to tell the Crows what we had done, our mistake," he went on. "Taliesen convinced me not to. He said it would be a foolish waste. So we reported that Rinna had died in the attempt. We needn't have bothered. The Crows knew what we had done. The master who disliked me told me so to my face. He said the Crows knew… and they didn't care. And one day my turn would come."

Niko's eyes narrowed in confusion. "Why would he do that?"

"To rub it in my face, perhaps. That I was nothing. That she was nothing…"

Those words, and the hurt with which Zevran said them nearly brought tears to Niko's eyes. But he held them back as Zevran's gaze was suddenly on him again. And he spoke gravely serious. "You once asked why I wanted to leave the Crows. In truth, what I wanted was to die. What better way than to throw myself at one of the fabled Grey Wardens? And then… this happened. And here I am."

He caressed Zevran's face again, then thread his fingers into long strands of blonde hair, free of their usual braid. He looked into Zevran's eyes, searching for truth to his next question. "Do you still want to die?"

"No," Zevran answered. His hand came up to rest over the one that caressed his face. Niko could read his sincerity. The assassin wasn't hiding his feelings right now. "What I want is to begin again. Whatever it is I sought by leaving Antiva, I think I have found it. I owe you a great deal."

Their foreheads resting together, Niko closed his eyes. "I'm glad you're with me, Zevran."

Wordlessly, the assassin pulled him into a deep kiss, longing to pour everything he was feeling into that one gesture. Because there was no way for Zevran to say it all with words.

-o-o-o-

The next they spoke to Slim Couldry they found out people were calling Niko "The Dark Wolf". He got a laugh out of it. So he was a notorious, illusive criminal now. With such a fine title too.

It did little to distract him from the task at hand though. The big Landsmeet was still approaching. They already ran into some trouble. That "Grey Warden Poster" had been a trap set to catch Grey Warden supporters. They'd been well trained fighters, but Niko and his team still took them out.

Today they were perusing the market while waiting for one of Slim's marks to show up. Zevran's trained eyes were everywhere; every corner, every alley, every rooftop and window. It was something drilled into him from years as a Crow and, seeing as how it was a useful habit, he had no intention of dropping it or letting his sharp senses grow rusty. He had a charge to watch over after all. Niko was by himself at the moment, standing among a small crowd of children who were ogling a caged black bear, though a few of the children had taken to staring at the Warden instead. Zevran could understand why. Although the bear had been out in the market (drugged with sleeping agents most likely) drawing attention for a few weeks now, most of these Denerim children had probably never seen an elf suited up in armor and carrying such fine weaponry before.

Zevran continued to keep a subtle gaze on the Warden, watching him as he wandered by Master Ignacio's stall again. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck rising even before a wary look passed over Niko's face. Zevran made his way closer, walking casually as to not draw attention, and blended in with the other shoppers.

"I never said I was a Warden," Zevran heard as he listened in.

"I heard it in passing," Ignacio replied, waving off the suspicion. "It is said that there are few secrets in the market."

Zevran was pretending to browse the stall beside them when Niko's eyes met his, the shortest of glances exchanged. He noticed how the Warden relaxed ever so slightly now that he was near, but he was too focused on keeping his own wits about him to reflect on it.

"You're hiding something," Niko accused the man.

"Aren't we all?" Ignacio countered, keeping his calm manner intact. "I mean you no harm; that should be enough. But I am afraid my appetite for conversation has waned."

"Another time, then," Niko replied, keeping cautious eyes on the man as he walked away.

Zevran was at his side seconds later. "Is everything alright?"

"He knows I'm a Warden," Niko told him. "But says he means no harm… I don't know. Maybe nothing will come of it."

Zevran had his doubts about that, but he supposed the Warden had enough on his mind already. That was fine. Zevran would keep an eye out for trouble. And something did come of it. A little human boy ran up to them not an hour later, toting a message that he delivered to Niko, then ran off before they could get a word in. The note directed him to a back room at the Gnawed Noble Tavern. He didn't go alone, of course. Alistair and Zevran went with him, and they found Master Ignacio by himself. Though they suspected that the man was not as alone as he appeared.

"You here about a note?" Ignacio asked, though it was hardly a question. "Maybe we have some things we can talk about."

"Just see that the conversation stays civil," Zevran warned, his tone dangerous. "If this is a trap…"

"Zevran, is it?" Ignacio interrupted, sounding bored and unthreatened. It made Zevran seethe. "You are Taliesen's responsibility. Other Crows may try to kill you, but in my eyes, you're already dead. So you are of no notice. But the Warden here, he is of great interest to me."

"You were hired to kill me," Niko pointed out.

"I can't stress enough that I wasn't hired to do anything," Ignacio insisted. "An associate was, and he's failed—and failed badly."

Zevran's lip curled in annoyance, but he spoke low, anger coated with calm. "I'd like to see you do any better."

"Do you take me for a fool?" Ignacio spat, his cool facade failing him for the moment. "That is a contract I'd never take!" They all watched him as he recollected himself and turned his attention back to Niko with renewed calm. "A client can always hire more… help. If the job isn't done the first time. But I'm hoping we can make sure that doesn't happen."

"Zevran," Niko prompted, turning to his friend. "Is this true?"

"I've only heard of the one time the entire House of Crows was hired for a job. A princely sum changed hands and an entire noble family died. Not one soul survived," he told. "Ignacio has the right of it. Generally, it is one master, one job."

Nodding, Niko looked back to Ignacio, his arms crossed. "I'm listening."

"Ferelden is a busy place: Blight, civil war, other mayhem. Lots of people not getting along. Sometimes they really don't get along. Maybe want to do something about it. The people that handle that sort of thing can get real busy."

Blinking in surprise, Niko raised an eyebrow at him. That wasn't exactly what any of them had been expecting. "You're hiring help?"

"You could say that. Not many people we can turn to. So someone that's crossed our path and lived… well, maybe they could help out. Make some coin. Everyone wins."

It was a tempting offer. Not for the coin exactly, but to make sure the Crows were off his back. After all, even if they had been able to handle Zevran and his people, that didn't mean there wouldn't be someone more stealthy or more skilled next time. And it wasn't like Niko hadn't made plenty of wealthy enemies by now…

"How does this work, then?" he asked.

"I hand you a scroll. You read it, you learn about someone interesting. If you find out something happens to him, something unfortunate, then if we talk again I give you money for 'letting me know.' You don't like what is on the scroll, don't do anything. Maybe he has an accident and someone else tells me all about it."

Niko scoffed. He didn't like these  _carefully chosen words_ , and didn't see the point. But some people just didn't like being direct.

"Hand me the scroll," he said, untucking one of his crossed arms to accept it.

"There you go," Ignacio said happily. "Makes for fine reading."

"You're a cautious little weasel, Ignacio," Zevran spoke up while Niko scanned the paper. "What's your angle? If you're playing us false…"

"My dance is not for you," Ignacio said with a glare. "I need to be real… honest sometimes. And I can say I haven't asked anyone to do anything. I've just given someone something interesting to read."

"And you think that will save your hide when they nail it to a wall?" Zevran pointed out.

"You're already dead in my eyes,  _whoreson_ ," Ignacio spat. "Take care that I don't 'learn' otherwise."

Niko's eyes darted up to Ignacio, fire in them. "Don't threaten him," he warned, shoving the scroll back to Ignacio. "And you really shouldn't ask me to kill dead men."

"What? Y-you already…?"

"Paedan, the man who was after Grey Warden loyalists," Niko told the others before turning back to Ignacio, a smirk on his face. "He had an accident. Fell on my blade."

"Ahem. I should have anticipated that," Ignacio said, regaining his calm, collected persona. "Well done. You might want to look in the chest behind me. There might be something of interest."

They soon left the Crow, with two new scrolls directing them to two other targets.

"I'm not sure I feel right about this," Alistair said as they left the tavern. "But I'm with you whatever you decide to do."

"Well the first target was someone we already killed," Niko reasoned. "Maybe these next ones will be more people we want gone. This could be good for us."

"Like I said, I'm with you."

"Zev?" Niko turned to his lover. "What do you think of this?"

"If it guarantees the Crows will not take out more contracts on you, then perhaps it is worth your time. Though I would not put it past them to go back on such a deal," he warned. In fact, he was sure if the Warden came out of this Blight alive and someone offered the right price, they would not hesitate to take the contract. The Crows lacked the honor code they once had and they were not what they used to be, Zevran knew. He'd heard it time and time again, and not only in the quiet whispers among the disenfranchised.

Niko was thinking over Ignacio's offer as they cut through an alley, while Zevran and Alistair were talking about tattoos. They were not paying particular attention to their surroundings, yet one by one they all sensed a change about them. Niko, at the head of the small group, froze and looked at the area they found themselves in. They were surrounded by the stone walls of buildings, almost a small courtyard of sorts only it was deserted… or so it seemed.

Turning the corner, they spotted a couple of claw traps at the foot of some stairs. That's when their ambushers emerged…

"And so here is the mighty Grey Warden at long last," the man at the top of the stairs spoke as he stepped forward with a taunting grin. "The Crows send their greetings once again."

It was a painfully familiar voice. Every one of Zevran's muscles tensed as he looked up and faced the man.

"So they sent you, Taliesen?" he asked, stepping carefully closer to Niko's side as he kept his eyes trained on his old partner. "Or did you volunteer for the job?"

"I volunteered, of course," Taliesen answered cheerily. "When I heard that the great Zevran had gone rogue, I simply had to see it for myself."

"Is that so? Well here I am, in the flesh."

Grief weighed on Zevran. He'd known this moment would come, but somehow he hadn't expected it to happen so soon. Perhaps it had just been wishful thinking. He didn't not want this, but it was inevitable. He knew the regret it his tone was noticeable, because Taliesen jumped on it.

"You can return with me, Zevran. I know why you did this. And I don't blame you," he said, sympathizing. "It's not too late. Come back and we'll make up a story. Anyone can make a mistake."

So Taliesen assumed they could make this all go away, like they had with Rinna. It was a fair assumption, he supposed. Back then... his feelings for Rinna had not been clear to him until it was too late. She caused him great confusion and he'd been - he was ashamed to admit - almost eager to make the "problem" go away. He'd easily believed she had betrayed them when Taliesen told him. Because he'd wanted to believe it. To let her die and these feelings with her... Of course it hadn't been that easy in the end, had it? And here Taliesen was, wanting to care of his problems once again...

"Of course, I'd have to be dead first," Niko spoke up.

"And I'm not about to let that happen," Zevran promised, stepping forward and catching Niko's gaze. He saw relief and the warmth in those eyes, but not one ounce of surprise. And Zevran knew deep within his heart that he could never betray the Warden's trust. He hoped Niko could see that.

"What?!" Taliesen snarled. "You've gone soft!"

Zevran tore his gaze away from Niko's and the silent conversation passing between them. "I'm sorry, my old friend. But the answer is no. I'm not coming back…" He frowned, resigning himself to what was about to unfold. "And you should have stayed in Antiva."

Taliesen wasted no more time on words. He and his men attacked at once. Zevran jumped out of the way, headed straight for Taliesen. Meanwhile Niko immediately ducked an arrow. While he was down there, he quickly disarmed the traps at the foot of the stairs. Alistair's shield caught two arrows before he charged the archer, knocking the man to the ground. As Niko stood to his feet, he had two other Crows to contend with. It was a flurry of blades, and he said a silent thanks to Wade for the superior armor that was protecting him now from the blows that got through his defensive maneuvers. He killed one, slashing his longsword across the man's body and spraying blood everywhere.

Their blades crossing, Zevran looked passed the sharp, glinting edges to see a deadly glare locked on him. Taliesen was out for blood. Zevran pushed back against him with a surge of strength, afforded to him by the heart-tugging fear that Taliesen would no doubt go after Niko the moment he took down Zevran. As Taliesen stepped back, Zevran calculated his movements and swung low. As predicted, Taliesen jumped back, keeping him ever further from the battle at the foot of the stairs. Where Niko was. Zevran did not intend to let Taliesen past him. They lunged and parried, knowing each other's moves intimately, but this was the first time they had ever fought with the intention to kill. There was a viciousness to their strikes that neither had ever experienced from the other personally before.

Someone at his back caused Zevran to turn, quickly lashing out with his sword to knock the attacker down the stairs. It was the opening Taliesen needed. He took a stab at Zevran, glancing off his thick leather armor enough to cause a scratch. Zevran twisted away and swung at him, but Taliesen ducked the sword and raced past him.

A shout was ripped from Zevran with fear and anger, and a wave of helplessness shook him to the core as he watched Taliesen raise his weapons, his sights set on the Warden.

Niko turned just in time from his own opponent to block another dagger coming at him, and his eyes widened to see it was Taliesen who wielded the blade. The man's eyes were terrifying; filled with a manic bloodlust Niko had never seen so up close before. He wondered if all Crows savored the kill so much. But he didn't have time to think, not if he wanted to avoid that killing blow. Taliesen's swipes were strong and quick, and Niko had a difficult time matching them.

He had to get to Zevran, had to see that he was safe. It was the only thought on his mind as he parried and ducked Taliesen's attacks. Their blades struck hard against each other, but Taliesen had strength and reach to his advantage. He pressed Niko, who took steps back while blocking Taliesen's blows. The savagery never left his eyes, taking joy in the kill sport as he finally pinned down his prey.

Bringing up his weapon just in time to deflect Taliesen's blade, Niko heard a terrible sound. A puncture wound; flesh and muscle torn apart.

But Niko was not the one who was stabbed, nor did he do the stabbing. Glancing up to his attacker's face, he saw a frozen look of shock. Behind Taliesen, Zevran had sunk both of his blades into the man's back. He pulled them out, Taliesen's lifeless body falling to the ground. They both stared down at Taliesen as blood poured from his body and the battlefield grew silent. Alistair had dispatched his own opponents as well, turning to them with sweat on his brow and his chest heaving with heavy breaths.

Zevran appeared shaken, a quiver in his arms that slowly dissipated as he took in the results of the battle. Niko was safe and unhurt. Alistair was fine. They were all alive... except the Crows. Zevran looked down at Taliesen's body and found he was not as upset as he thought he might be. Though the quiet voice in the back of his mind still said a silent apology.

"And there it is," he spoke, raising his gaze from Taliesen's body to meet Niko's eyes. "Taliesen is dead, and I am free of the Crows. They will assume I am dead along with Taliesen. So long as I do not make my presence known to them, they will not seek me out."

"So what does this mean?" Niko asked.

"I do not know. It seems I have options now, whereas once I had none," Zevran said, the melancholy slowly disappearing from him. "I suppose it would be possible for me to leave, now, if I wished. I could go far away, somewhere where the crows would never find me."

It was a foreign and wonderful thought. He'd not imagined the possibility of such freedom in so long. He could go anywhere, travel where he wanted and not just where the Crows told him to go.

Niko, however, did not have any words for that. In fact, he probably could not speak if he tried. The idea of Zevran leaving… just like that… He felt like his whole world was just melting away. If Zevran walked away now, Niko was sure he'd fall to his knees and never stand up again.

"I think, however, that I could also stay here. I made an oath to help you, after all. And saving the world seems a worthy task to see through to the end, yes?"

The smile on Zevran's face right now did little to encourage him. Did Zevran want to stay or not? If he did, was it only out of a sense of duty?

"If you want to go, Zev, you should go."

Zevran's smile immediately fell, becoming filled with unease. He couldn't even hide it, not when Niko was looking at him so sadly. "But that is what I am asking you. Do you want me to go? Do you need me here?" He questioned.

Niko wasn't sure if the sudden stress in Zevran's voice was because he was eager to leave or because he really wanted Niko to tell him to stay. Shoulders slumping in emotional exhaustion, he decided he had to be honest, even if it was a little selfish. But he would give Zevran an out, at least, if he wanted to take it. "Of course I want you to stay. But I don't want to make you-"

"Then stay I shall," Zevran responded quickly, barely letting Niko finish his sentiment. "I'm with you until the end… provided you do not tire of me first," he grinned, lightening the mood. "Or I die. Or you die. But there you go."

He glanced over Niko's shoulder at Alistair, who politely hung back to stay out of the conversation. He'd started looting the Crow's pockets instead, finding a decent bit of coin.

Zevran smirked. "Let us be off then, shall we?"

-o-o-o-

Rubbing his forehead, Niko left the Arl's study with a heavy sigh. He had no desire to break into the Arl of Denerim's estate for yet another rescue. He hadn't made it in time to save Nola or protect his cousin the last time. Now they wanted him to save the Queen. No, he really didn't want to go back to that building, but he had no choice.

He suddenly wondered what they ever did with Nola's body. He hoped they had returned it to her father so she could receive a proper burial at least...

Closing his eyes in frustration, he was caught completely off-guard when an arm suddenly wrapped around him, steering him towards his guest bedroom. But he relaxed when he realized it was Zevran, guiding him down the hall.

"I wanted to speak to you before we leave to rescue the Queen," Zevran said, shutting the bedroom door to give them privacy.

"What about?" Niko asked.

"Please… sit," Zevran urged, gesturing toward the couch.

Niko did just that, watching the other elf come over to join him on the couch.

"Here…" Zevran held out his hand unfolding his fingers to reveal a small gold earring with a tiny blue jewel setting. "It seems an appropriate moment to give you this."

"An earring?"

"I acquired it on my very first job for the Crows. A Rivaini merchant prince, and he was wearing a single jeweled earring when I killed him. In fact, that's about all he was wearing." He smirked, glancing down at the treasure. "I thought it was beautiful and took it to mark the occasion. I've kept it since…" He met Niko's gaze again. "And I'd like you to have it."

Niko's eyes lit up with his smile. This was an important token to Zevran and he was giving it to him. "Thank you, Zev, it's a fine gift."

Zevran shifted uncomfortably. "Don't get the wrong idea about it," he added. "You killed Taliesen. As far as the Crows will be concerned, I died with him. That means I'm free, at least for now." He gave a shrug. "Feel free to sell it, or wear it… or whatever you like. It's really the least I could give you in return."

Niko's smile had dropped from his face completely. "So… not a token of affection, then? It's a reward for helping you?"

_'Please just say it's the first one. It's all you have to say…'_

Zevran winced, the plea in Niko's eyes too much for him. "I… look, just… just take it. It's meant a lot to me, but so have… so has what you've done. Please, take it."

The Warden felt torn. He didn't want to turn down a meaningful gift. He didn't want to hurt Zevran or push him too much, but…  _this hurt_   _him_. He would have gladly accepted if Zevran hadn't insisted that it meant nothing. If he accepted now though, all it could ever remind him of was how Zevran wrote it off as nothing. And Niko believed it did mean something. But why couldn't Zevran just say that?

"You don't owe me a reward for helping you." He looked to the earring, still held out in offering to him in Zevran's palm. "If it doesn't mean anything… I can't take it."

Zevran's hand clenched shut around the jewelry, and Niko, surprised, looked up to see his expression had grown dark. "You are a very frustrating man to deal with, do you know that? We pick up every other bit of treasure we come across, but not this." He stood abruptly. "You don't want the earring? You don't get the earring. Very simple."

Niko felt his heart pounding hard. And not in a good way like it usually did around Zevran. He reached out, catching Zevran's wrist to stop him from walking out.

"Wait, Zev, please. I didn't want to hurt you. I just-"

"I know…" Zevran sighed. He did know that. And he knew this conversation would only get more difficult if he let it go on. His clenched hand squeezed around the earring, then he tucked it back into a pouch in his belt. He turned to look at Niko, hiding upset with a stony expression. "It is fine." He used Niko's grip on him to tug the Warden to his feet. "Come, we should be on our way."

"Zev-"

The assassin cut him off by pulling him into a kiss. Brief as it was, it shut him up. "We have a lady to rescue, my Warden. We should not keep her waiting."


	19. Dungeons and Dungeons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Face-to-face with Arl Howe, the Warden resorts to untapped power to exact his revenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait on this update. I was focusing on recovering from my recent surgery so I took a break from writing.
> 
> Chapter Rating: M. I feel like this might warrant an M rating because of some brief torture-related descriptions that may be considered disturbing. I didn't think they were that bad, but I'll make it M to be on the safe side.
> 
> Pairing: Zevran/(M)Tabris
> 
> The title of this chapter is from a song on the Dragon Age Origins soundtrack album.

It was a step up, Niko realized. Disguised as soldiers instead of servants.

Still, it was another rescue mission in the same damn estate. Vaughan and his boys were dead -- as were most of the old guardsmen -- but there was a new man in charge now, and he was the same breed of bastard.

Ever since Erlina, Anora’s handmaiden, told them that Howe was inside at this very moment, Niko had been more interested in finding him than the Queen. He yearned to shove his blade into Howe’s spine.

 _Soon_ , he promised himself. It was all falling into place. The door that Anora was trapped behind was sealed with magic, and the only way to fix that was to take out the mage who cast the spell. Finding the mage likely meant finding Howe, and Niko would make him pay for purging the Alienage. For calling them animals and thinking so little of their lives…

This whole building reminded him of that fateful day; a day that was supposed to be celebratory but ended in pain for many people. The dining room where he’d poisoned those guards, and the room where he first had to cut one of them down… he could pinpoint them all. It felt like a lifetime ago, but being here again brought it all back. He and Soris had gone through the same hallways, bloodying them as they raced to find their cousin. The halls were the same now, though less bloody, and Niko found that walking through them made him tense and twitchy. Distress flooded his mind and body, telling him to hurry -- hurry and find Shianni before it’s too late…

But they weren’t here for Shianni, he’d remember. Only he was, in a way. He was here to avenge all of them. Whatever Howe had done to his old home, Niko would make sure there was retribution, just as he had with Vaughan.

It wasn’t just the elves who needed to be avenged though. Down within the horrors of the dungeon, they found a young noble being tortured, a soldier gone mad, a lost Templar…

And a Grey Warden.

Riordan was from Orlais, sent to find out what had happened at the Battle of Ostagar after losing contact with Ferelden’s Wardens. But he was captured by Arl Howe and kept in an isolated jail cell. He’d left them, injured, but surely able to make it out on his own in the armor stolen from his guard. There was so much Alistair and Niko needed to speak with him about, but hopefully they’d be seeing him again soon.

“We should be getting close to Howe,” Niko said as they paced the dirty stone floors. “We’ve looked everywhere else.”

He took the lead down a long, dim-lit hallway, but was soon joined by Zevran edging up beside him. The assassin’s face was unreadable at first, but the longer they walked in silence the more Zevran kept glancing towards him, his gaze softening with every look exchanged.

“I did not thank you,” he whispered, gaining Niko’s attention, though the Antivan kept his eyes on the floor. “It occurs to me that you have freed me from the Crows, and yet I did not think to thank you for it. No matter why you did it, still it was done, and I the benefactor. So… thank you.”

Niko blinked in surprise, staring at the assassin who refused to look back at him.

Did Zevran doubt his motivations…?

But… that was fair, wasn’t it? After all, he had questioned Zevran’s over that earring, with which he had _tried_ to thank Niko. Though in such an aggravating way... It was so frustrating, he thought, not knowing where he stood with Zevran. But… maybe it was that way for the both of them. Maybe Zevran truly did not know how Niko felt about him.

“We’re friends, Zevran,” he responded quietly, also turning his gaze away from the other elf. “I was glad to do it.”

Zevran’s brow knitted together in solemn thought, trying to sort something out. “You say that so quickly, and yet it is an odd thing for me to hear. In the Crows, we do not have ‘friends’, and yet here you are and I cannot help but consider you such.”

It was comforting to know that they had mutual friendship between them at least. Even if their relationship never went beyond that, Niko would treasure it. Looking at the expression of confusion on Zevran’s face though, the Warden made a decision. He was going to be very honest and hope for the best.

The words didn’t come easily, but he forced them out, closing his eyes before taking the leap. “I think of you as more than a friend.”

Silence fell upon them and Niko was afraid to look at the other elf. When he did though, Zevran’s eyes were a little wider, and it seemed a million conflicting thoughts were wrestling in his mind. But looking at the Warden now, this simple yet bare truth hanging in the stale air melted every one of them, leaving only his own honesty in return. “I… must admit that I have thought of you in the same way. It’s just that all this time I simply had no idea you might… feel the same.” He let his gaze fall as he smiled to himself. “How very novel.”

“Really? You didn’t have a clue?” Niko asked.

“I thought we were only having fun,” Zevran confessed. Though he said it with the air of a man who was wondering where things had gotten out of hand.

“I thought that’s all it was _supposed_ to be,” Niko replied, shrugging one shoulder.

They came to a door, and the Warden paused. Alistair and Morrigan, who had trailed a bit behind to give the two elves some semblance of privacy, now caught up to them.

Niko locked eyes with Zevran. “We’ll talk more later.”

The assassin gave a nod and a smirk, drawing his weapons. “Another battle it is.”

On the other side of the door they barged in, Arl Howe seemed to be ready for them, and he was definitely not alone. Armored and carrying two weapons on his back, his arms were crossed over his puffed out chest, annoyance written on his smug face.

“Well, well. The Grey Wardens. I must say I’m surprised Eamon would condone you invading my castle and murdering my men. Is he losing faith in the persuasive powers of his Landsmeet?”

Niko smiled a dangerous little smirk, his eyes fixing sharply on his target as he pulled out his sword and Duncan’s dagger. “I know your game, and I’m not here to talk.”

_‘I’m here to kill you.’_

Howe’s eyes narrowed on him. Whether he knew exactly why this elf was out to get him wasn’t clear. Everything was politics with this man, and a means to an end, so why would he consider how much damage he’d done?

“You should have left when you had the chance, Warden. Slunk off to the Anderfels to hide with the rest of your kind. This Landsmeet is a farce! Loghain will triumph and you will die!”

Swords and staffs emerged quickly, turning the prison room into a combat zone. Howe had guards at his side and two mages out of range supplying him aid.

Niko ducked Howe’s dagger and axe as they swiped at him. He struck his own weapons upward as he rose up, knocking Howe’s weapons out of the way and leaving the man vulnerable to an attack.

While Zevran was having fun leading one of the guards in a deadly dance and Morrigan struck the other with lightening, Alistair swung his sword at Howe, forcing the arl to back up and put distance between them.

“Take out those mages!” Niko ordered his fellow Warden. “Howe’s mine!”

Alistair nodded and ran after the spell-casters. The old snake chuckled, though his expression hardened at the chilling gaze Niko turned on him, eyes filled with nothing but murder.

Niko made the first move. His longsword came down hard on Howe, but the arl raised his dagger to deflect the hit, sparks flying as metal glanced off metal. The Warden followed up with his left-hand blade, shoving it at the opening in Howe’s side, but Howe sidestepped the attack, the blade barely nicking his leather armor.

It was just a taste of what they were each capable of. They were both rogues, both experienced with dual weapons, but Howe had been at this longer; a soldier during the Rebellions. Niko hoped his own advantages would win out here.

An arcane bolt sent an unexpected sting piercing through Niko’s body, a painful bite at his very core that staggered him. Behind Howe, he caught a glimpse of Alistair getting revenge for him, smashing the mage in the skull with the hilt of his sword.

Howe’s chest-piece was suddenly filling his vision, the man sounding an angry battle cry as he leapt at Niko, both of his weapons arched high so he could bring them down on his target. Not enough time or room to maneuver out of the way, the Warden crouched low, bringing up his sword and dagger to block. Their weapons clashed, nearly knocking the Warden backwards. Deadlocked, Howe pushed down with all of his strength and Niko was bearing all the weight.

He was up close with Howe’s seething face now. He could see the top row of the man’s narrow teeth, spittle on his lip, and a manic look in his eyes. His arms shaking, Niko pushed back against the weapons that threatened to come down on him. With a shout, he used all the strength in his legs to stand again, shoving Howe away from him.

Sweat beading down the old soldier’s brow, he huffed his shallow breaths as he glared at the Warden. They circled each other, carefully watching their movements and knowing this battle would be over soon, one way or another.

Howe aimed a brutal chop of his axe right at Niko’s neck, but Duncan’s dagger caught it. The axe-head was momentarily stuck against the blade, making Howe fume. Before Niko could tug the weapon away from him, a twist of Howe’s wrist wrested the axe back into his control.

“This has nothing to do with the Landsmeet,” Niko told him, nostrils flaring in anger as sweat streaked his face and streamed down his back. “This is for the Alienage.”

“You’ll die just like them,” Howe spat. “Like the vermin you are!”

Expletives spilling from his mouth, Niko charged at him, blades poised to strike swiftly. Howe stood ready, and when Niko went in for an expert blow, he counter-attacked.

His blade knocked aside, Niko gasped in pain as Howe’s war-axe sliced through his glove and into his hand. Unsure of the damage, Niko backed up. Losing his centered focus on Howe, everything else seemed to catch up with him at once. Alistair’s rallying cry and the clang of his sword, Zevran’s taunts, and the dangerous colors of spell-casting flying through the air. Bright red blood dripped from Niko’s hand, dotting the dusty stone floor. It didn’t stop, only flowing more as he lowered the injured, sword-bearing hand. His grip on the hilt was painful and he wasn’t sure if he could hold on to it much longer. His own poisoned blood streamed down the shining handle and the length of the blade. It was a pathetic sight, he thought. He could even hear Howe sniggering at him over there.

The arl closed in on him, ready to end this.

Energy pulsed in Niko’s veins. Setting his jaw and resuming his stance, he refocused. His hand hurt, but there was a strength in that pain. Not the usual strength a fighter gained from seeing their own blood. This was different. This was a different energy of its own. Niko took a strong hold of his weapons as Howe approached, fist clenching the hilt of his sword. Blood poured from the back of his sliced hand, covering the steel, gluing itself to the edges.

He raised the sword with more strength than Howe anticipated, slicing at him in an arch. Howe barely dodged the blow, stepping back. He was forced to go on the defensive as Niko continued to advance on him. Their blades clashed in a flurry, Howe finally bringing his war-axe down on Niko’s dagger so hard it slipped from his hand and clattered to the floor. Niko let it go, eyes narrowed on Howe as he gripped his sword in both hands and swung at the arl.

Howe crossed his weapons in time to stop the first hit but the second hit was too strong, breaking his defensive stance. His body tired and sagging, he finally realized that he was the last one left. His men had fallen to the Grey Warden’s companions. Breathless, the moment he realized that there was no way out of this alive was the same moment he felt a searing pain slice through his abdomen.

He fell to the ground, eyes blurring on the sight of his four enemies stepping toward him. The tainted blade that did him in hung limp in the hand of the bloodied elf towering over him now. Holding his hand over the red flow from the gash in his stomach, Howe struggled to keep his head up so he could scowl at them. Even bleeding out on the floor, he had nothing but ire and arrogance to give. “Maker spit on you…” He seethed. “I… deserved… more!”

Listening to the choked sound of Howe’s last breath fighting to leave his body, Niko stared at the corpse of the man who’d purged his home, thinking bitterly of his family still locked inside those gates.

“Yes, you did.”

The room was silent except the sound of their harsh breathing. Niko tore his eyes away from Arl Howe’s lifeless body, though it was a satisfying sight to behold. He surveyed the room, which smelled not only of filth and mold, but now also of blood and gore. His companions were not in the best shape at the moment. Along with the sweat and exhaustion evident in their slumped bodies, Alistair’s brow was seeping blood from a cut and his metal chest-piece was dented. Morrigan’s arm sported a nasty burn from one of the other mage’s fire spells. Her face was stern, showing no pain except that her hand shook as she applied some basic healing magic to it. Zevran was a little bruised, but not looking too badly hurt. It was Niko’s injury that they were now staring at.

“What did you do?” Alistair demanded. His tone was not filled with concern so much as it was with incredulity. “With Howe, I saw you do-… something.”

Niko glanced up, seeing genuine fear, anger, and worry in Alistair’s narrowed eyes. But Niko turned away when Zevran gingerly pried the sword from his grip so he could get a look at his sliced hand. The assassin carefully tugged the bloodied and torn glove off, and Niko winced.

“Ah, it is not so bad,” Zevran said, forcing a smile as the tension coming from Alistair became more palpable. “Perhaps Morrigan can-“

“I’d honestly rather bandage it for now,” Niko responded. He glanced to Morrigan. “Not that I wouldn’t appreciate it, but healing magic is always itchy.”

“An excellent choice considering I need time to regenerate all the mana I have just used,” she responded stiffly. Her burn mark was almost completely gone now.

Zevran did the job quickly and efficiently, patching up the Warden’s hand with a bandage roll from his pack.

“Niko-“

“We’ll talk about it later, Alistair,” Niko cut him off, ready to a move on. “Let’s get back to Anora.”

They found a staircase that took them back to the main floor not far from where Erlina was waiting outside Anora’s locked room. The rooms before were suspiciously empty, and Niko could not help the nervous pounding of his heart.

The Queen emerged in silver guard armor, including a clunky helmet that hid her face enough that she would not be recognized at first glance. It was a decent disguise. Too bad there were no disguises that would help the rest of them, covered in blood as they were.

“My thanks,” she said, getting a good look at her rescuers for the first time.

It was almost funny, Niko thought. He'd been sent on a mission to rescue the Queen, yet looking at her now, he wasn’t thinking of her as a Queen exactly. He’d expected a regal woman to emerge from that room – not that she didn’t still carry that kind of nobility about her in excess -- but he’d pictured her wearing a fancy dress with expensive jewelry and a crown and all. But she was like him, trying to survive and do what needed to be done, donning disguises and protection, and she just looked so human.

“We must go quickly and avoid notice,” she advised. “If Howe’s people find me, I’ll be killed. And my people will insist on escorting me back to the palace.” She frowned, her tone hitting a sad note. “Where my father may also have me killed.”

Niko nodded and led the way forward. They barely turned a corner before running in to a unit of guardsmen waiting for them. Led by Ser Cauthrien, they stood in a row spanning across the room. Niko counted at least a dozen guards, plus a mage.

“Warden.” Cauthrien stepped forward. “In the name of the Regent, I am placing you under arrest for the murder of Rendon Howe and his men-at-arms. Surrender, and you may be shown mercy.”

Niko’s eyes frantically chased the room once again. Team strategy, battle tactics, and positioning filled out in his mind; it was instinct these days and was something he was progressively getting better at with every battle. This would be a tough fight, but there was a chance they could win and escape with the Queen and their lives. But his team… they were hiding it now, their weapons drawn and ready, but Niko knew. They were all tired. Hell, he was tired too. They were all drained and still banged up from their last fight just moments ago. Morrigan likely did not have the reserve to lend much spell-casting aid, let alone enough to keep herself protected.

They would have to surrender, Niko realized.

Anora hadn’t even turned into the room. At first sight of the guards, she and Erlina had quickly slipped back behind the wall where they had come. They had to hide because Anora’s cover being blown was not an option. If Zevran and Morrigan could escape with the Queen and get her to safety…

It was their best bet.

Placing his weapons on the floor, Niko lifted his hands in surrender. “I will stand down,” he told Cauthrien, keeping a calm gaze on her though his heart felt like it was hammering its way out of his chest. “You don’t know the whole story.”

“Why stop now?” Alistair challenged. “Cauthrien is all that stands between us and freedom.”

Niko met his gaze and Alistair’s stomach dropped at the uncertainty he saw in his friend’s eyes.

“Killing them just reinforces Loghain’s lies about me,” Niko said hollowly, and Alistair was certain that wasn’t the reason.

Niko didn’t think they would win.

Biting his tongue, Alistair set his weapons down as well.

“I’m surprised this ended peacefully,” Cauthrien said, but it was hard to tell whether or not that meant they were more likely to receive mercy. She turned to the guards at her sides. “Bring the Wardens,” she instructed. “Loghain doesn’t care about the rest.”

Niko took that moment to turn on his heels to face Zevran and Morrigan, who looked stunned.

“Go,” he ordered in a harsh whisper. “Get her out.”

He meant the Queen of course. His jaw snapping shut, Zevran stared at Niko’s eyes, hardened with resolve. But he could see the distress too, the resignation Niko felt. And it sent a chill up Zevran’s spine to see their fearless leader that way.

Without words, Zevran tried to convey what he needed to the Warden. Then with Morrigan, he fled back to get the Queen.

Forcing himself not to look back at his companions being shackled, Zevran raced on _. ‘I will do what needs to be done, My Warden, but know that I will be back for you.’_

-o-o-o-

For all the trekking around the country they’d done and all the horrible things they had uncovered along the way, Fort Drakon was the cruelest place Niko had ever seen.

He and Alistair were stripped not only of their armor, but of all their other clothes as well. Left only in their smallclothes, they were unkindly ushered into the dungeons. There were pikes on the wall that they passed, rusted and stained with layer after layer of old blood. Varying torture devices were sitting out on tables as casually as utensils in a home would be.

The Wardens kept their eyes firmly on the floor passing hurriedly beneath their bare feet as they were dragged to their cell. They had to focus somewhere, anywhere but the torture rack where a man’s cries for mercy quickly deteriorated into retching and tearful screams of agony.

And Maker did it stink. Not only the dirty, coppery stench of blood, but the hot air inside the dungeon was also polluted by the choking smell of piss and vomit.

Surrendering was a mistake, Niko thought as the shrill screams filling the dungeon grew impossibly louder and more heart-breaking, joined by numerous other tortured souls. Anything would have been better than seeing the inside of this place.

It was not only the pained screams that filled his aching head, but everything else he refused to look at; the sounds of flesh being carved, limbs stretched, and bones broken; the sounds of tormentors taking joy in the cruelty, laughing and spitting out the most hideous insults and taunts to helpless people still hanging pathetically to a strand of life. The wailing never stopped… How did anyone endure a second in this place?

“Stop,” Niko pleaded through gritted teeth. He could not even use his hands to cover his ears as they were bound behind him by his guard. “Make it stop!”

“Shut up, knife-ears!” the man hollered, tightening his hold on Niko’s arms.

Niko struggled against the manhandling until they nearly reached their jail cell.

“Hey don’t hurt him!” Alistair shouted and it was the last thing Niko heard before he was suddenly struck in the head.

And everything went black.


	20. Captured!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fort Drakon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully I am back to regular updates. We'll see. I already have Chapter 21 well underway. Now I initially did not have the last section of this chapter included (the conversations with Riordan and then Anora), but I felt like their presence and their dialogue were important. So I hope that part of the chapter doesn't feel slapped on last minute... Even though it was.
> 
> Thanks for reading! I hope you are all enjoying it.

 

His body woke before he could think to open his eyes and, for some reason, the first thing that came to Niko's mind was snow. It was so cold, like that time he tripped into a snow mound while hiking the Frostback Mountains. Alistair had tried to help him up, but ended up falling into it too. They both had hit the ground so hard they'd bruised. He felt like that now; a sharp pain right where his head was lying against hard ground.

Not ground…

…Stone floors….

He remembered now.

Eyes flying open, it was still dark. The cell was lit just barely by torch sconces that left eerie shadows to fill the corners. He sat up quickly, ignoring the headache and the ringing in his ears. Getting his bare back off of the cold floor was more important. Immediately he noticed the huge, heavy, iron door that he'd been lying right in front of. Wincing, he sat up carefully, head throbbing as he did so.

The moment he touched the door, he nearly jumped out of his skin, hearing someone behind him.

"Oh, you're awake!"

He turned to see Alistair sitting in the corner in nothing but his small-clothes. He sounded genuinely relieved. Niko was relieved too, because it was his friend in here and not a deranged inmate.

"I was starting to worry," Alistair said as he got to his feet.

"Are you alright?" Niko asked him.

"I've been worse." He shrugged. "I'll be better still when we get out of here."

A muffled cry from the lower area of the dungeon had them both tensing, trading shared gazes filled with horror until the sound finally stopped.

"The others are coming," Niko assured. "Don't worry." He turned away from Alistair so the warrior couldn't see him wincing at the pressure he felt building in his head.

"Who do you think will come?"

"Zevran will come," he said, looking at the ground. Niko knew it without a doubt. Before they'd parted, before Niko was arrested and Zevran escaped with Morrigan and the Queen, he had seen it in his lover's eyes.

He glanced up, seeing Alistair nodding silently before giving him a grin that - even in a dungeon - looked entirely natural on his face. "Ooh I wish I could see that. One person assaulting Fort Drakon all alone…"

Niko gave a little smirk, knowing Alistair was trying to lighten the mood as best he could. They'd been in worse places, for sure. But at least they hadn't been stripped of their weapons and clothes and locked in a cage in any of those places. "Maybe Morrigan will come back too," he suggested with a shrug.

Alistair looked skeptical of the idea but also amused. "I hope you're riiight."

"Arl Eamon wouldn't leave us here. It's not like we're expendable," Niko pointed out. "Being the only Grey Wardens left in Ferelden with a Blight going on…"

"Well there is Riordan," Alistair reminded.

"That's right. There is Riordan." Niko glanced around, looking for a place to sit. All he saw were two mats that… well they were probably supposed to be bedrolls, but they looked as hard as rocks with years of filth matted to them. So Niko decided to keep standing instead, even though he felt dizzy. "Do you suppose he made it to out?"

"I don't know," Alistair admitted, though he was holding on to hope. "He's been a Grey Warden as long as Duncan. He'd be a great help to us."

"He probably knows a lot…" Niko leaned against the bars, the cold metal a distraction from other multiple points of discomfort, including a stinging pain in his hand that was only getting sharper.

Alistair was quiet after that. He went so long without saying anything that Niko looked over to him, finding a worrying look on his face.

"What?" He asked, gaining Alistair's attention.

"Maybe it's not the best time to ask, but-… Well we've probably got plenty of time." Alistair fixed him with a serious stare. "What you did to Arl Howe-"

"I killed him like I was supposed to," Niko interrupted.

"Yes, but the  _way_  you did it," Alistair pressed on, not having any excuses or deflections. "It was- It was different. Something was different about you and the way you fought him."

The words echoed off the tall dungeon ceiling, and Alistair quieted while Niko glanced away. They were silent for a long moment while the elven Warden gently rubbed at his bandaged hand. Zevran had done a good job with it, he noted. Right now he wished for nothing more than to stand in front of the assassin with this open wound. He wanted to feel those rough palms on his own again, taking care of him. He wanted to feel that touch that assured him that things were right between them. They'd said some of the things they needed to say down in Howe's dungeons, but not everything.

"I don't know," Niko admitted. "I was bleeding and… Well we bleed all the time. But this time it was different. You're right about that. But I don't know. There was some kind of power there. I felt it… so I used it."

"And you think it was the blood?" Alistair sounded confused, but also like he was on to something. "That makes some sense actually. Because of the darkspawn taint… But I have that too and I never did what you did… whatever it was you did exactly. So what's different?"

Niko's eyes widened as the answer suddenly struck him. "You didn't drink Avernus's potion like I did." He looked to Alistair, whose eyebrows rose in surprise and realization. "He said it would augment a Warden's abilities."

"But what else does it do?" Alistair asked, and Niko really didn't like that ominous tone of voice he was using.

"If I ever get the chance, I'll ask him."

Alistair nodded and went quiet again, probably trying to figure out how this information fit in with his views as a Warden and as someone very distrustful of magic.

Niko frowned at him. "Do you think less of me for drinking it?"

"What?" The warrior's eyes shot up to his friend. "No. I mean… I don't know if it was the right decision. I still wouldn't drink it myself, but… It's not like I think you're a bad person."

"Good," Niko said, smiling a little. "…Because if we die in here, I wouldn't want to go out thinking that you did."

Alistair laughed softly. "We won't die in here."

Just as he finished saying it, they heard the clink of metal boots on the stone floor getting closer to the cell. There were two men, both in blood-splattered armor and carrying heavy maces at their belts. Their helmets were off. The shorter of the two had dark, short-cropped hair, ruddy skin and a scar on his lip. He looked plain mean. The other wasn't as muscular, had unkempt blonde hair, and wore a lopsided smirk on his face as he strutted over to them.

Niko and Alistair stood at each other's sides, waiting for the door to their cell to open. But it never did.

Sneering at the Warden prisoners, the guards turned to the confiscated packs, weapons and armor sitting on the floor instead.

"Let's see what the uppity elf and the royal bastard have 'ere, eh?" The blonde one pulled open Alistair's pack gracelessly and started rummaging around. He found a few dirty socks, a couple of amulets and little statues he'd collected on their journeys.

Alistair glared at the man through the bars the whole time, though he nearly blushed at the last find.

"Heheheh what's this?" The guard held up a puppet. It had a tiny tin helmet and carried a little shield and sword. Niko recognized it immediately as a gift he'd gotten for Alistair from a particularly interesting assortment of goods Bodahn had collected.

"Forget that," the other guard said. He had been more interested in going through the belts holding sheathed weapons, potions, and poisons. "Look at these."

"Hey," Alistair interjected, taking a step closer. "Don't touch those."

His eyes narrowed, trying to follow the men, who ignored him.

The guard with the scarred lip lifted Duncan's sword and took a hefty swing. "Fine sword."

"It belonged to a man much better than you, so put it down," Alistair demanded.

Both men paused and glared at him, and Alistair stood unwavering. That didn't mean he wasn't afraid, Niko knew. This place had stripped them of any comfort, made them vulnerable, but Alistair wasn't going to stand back and say nothing. Not when it came to Duncan.

"Look where you are," the shorter guard said, stepping closer, his arms stretching out. "In here, we're the kings."

The blonde smirked at him. "Maybe we outta go in there and teach 'em their place."

Before Alistair could say anything else, Niko rushed over to bars; all that kept them separated from the dungeon tormentors. "You really want to face two Grey Wardens?" he challenged, his fierce eyes boring in to theirs. "Come right in," he spat.

Honestly, he and Alistair wouldn't stand much of a chance. They were nearly naked and without weapons while their guards were heavily armed and armored. But if they were coming in anyway, then Niko thought it best to throw them off their game at least. The Wardens were legends and, if he guessed correctly, it was one of the reasons why no one had bothered them up here until now.

That's what he was counting on anyway.

The guards' expressions soured, wicked glares falling on him as they stepped closer, gazes piercing sharp as the blade they'd like to run through him.

A meaty hand suddenly reached through the bars, throttling Niko's slender neck. He was jerked forward and his face collided with the metal bars. Wincing in pain, he heard Alistair shout behind him. Opening his eyes, he caught a glimpse of a scarred lip close to his face, sneering at him.

"Grab that belt over there!" The guard pointed his taller cohort towards Niko's belongings. "The one with the pouches full of flasks."

"Let him go!" Alistair yelled helplessly, but the guard's grip only tightened on Niko's neck.

Up close, the guard gave Niko a wide grin full of yellow teeth. He was having fun, it was plain to see. It was why the prisoners screamed so long and cried so deeply here. Because the man who tortured them took immense joy in it.

The blonde guard gathered the colorful flasks carefully in his hands, allowing his friend to have his pick. Niko's eyes landed on the assortment, easily recognizing them. Some had been bought from merchants, and others he'd made with Zevran's expert help.

When the guard's hand hovered near a bright green bottle of acidic coating, Niko tried to pull away and went dizzy from the painful grip on his neck. His own hands clenched tight around the metal bars, trying to ground himself. The sharp pain it sent through his injured hand was nothing compared to the pressure on his neck. Alistair was right at his side, but his presence was beginning to blur in Niko's consciousness.

"Now what's this pretty blue one?" he heard one of the guard's say and Niko forced his eyes open to look at it. And his heart stalled as he did so.

Adder's Kiss.

Zevran had made that one by himself, as it was incredibly difficult to craft and extremely deadly. All it would take was one drop on his lips...

"Stop it!" Alistair yelled, trying to get between them. He even started reaching through the bars, trying to grab at the guards and shove them away.

"Stand the hell back!" the blonde ordered, ready to pull a blade.

Through all the shouting, they still managed to hear another commotion going on just outside the dungeon. The guards paused, looking towards the doors, and the grip on Niko's neck loosened enough that he could break free. Taking in a gasp of breath, he stumbling back from the bars. Alistair's hands were suddenly on his shoulders to catch him.

"What's goin' on?" the blonde guard asked.

They had just enough time to put the potions down and get their helmets back on before the doors flung open.

The fearsome elf that rushed through the entrance with sharp blades drawn was a sight to behold. His bright hair made him a beacon, but he was too quick to get a good look at. The woman that followed him was even more frightening, a purple aura surrounding her as she walked slowly into the room. Zevran rushed the guards, who sprinted towards him for head-on combat. Smirking, Morrigan shot lightning bolts from her hands, one for each of them. With their maces raised for battle, they both staggered at the electrocuting blow. And when Zevran reached them, his sword easily found a weak point in the armor that way, sinking into the space under one guard's arm. The blade pulled out bloody and shining, the man crumbling with a shrill cry. Zevran turned just in time to catch the other guard's mace with his dagger.

"Hah! Close!" Zevran grinned, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

The opening in the guard's helmet showed only an infuriated gaze and scarred lips twisted in a scowl.

"I'll cut you down, elf!" he snarled, swinging the mace hard at Zevran, who jumped out of the way.

"Too slow!"

Vicious barking and the clanking of armored boots resonated from downstairs in the torture chamber, signaling reinforcements for the guards. Morrigan slowed the hounds with a blast of fire to the face. Whimpering, they backed off enough to give her time to put some space between them. She she was already delving in the element of fire, she sent an enchantment in Zevran's direction. The edges of both his sword and dagger were suddenly engulfed in flames, startling his opponent.

"Oo!" Zevran smirked. "Take that!" A quick thrust of his flaming sword sent a perfectly aimed blade through the narrow opening in the guard's helmet.

While Zevran withdrew his fiery sword and dashed off to aid Morrigan on the other side of the room, Niko and Alistair tucked their noses into their arms as the foul smell of charred flesh suddenly joined the other stenches of the dungeon.

Glancing through the bars, they could barely make out Zevran running his blade through a mabari as it leapt at him and Morrigan's spells shooting through the air.

A pained yelp… a gurgled scream… a heavy thud… and then silence.

The battle was over, and relief washed over Niko and Alistair as the heavy lock on their prison door was soon turned.

"Come quickly, Wardens," Morrigan urged. "Though I doubt you are inclined to linger."

"Thank the Maker," Alistair murmured as he hurried out of the cell. "Where are our clothes?"

Niko smiled weakly at the sight of Zevran stepping forward to close the distance between them.

"Ah, my dear Warden, did you miss me?"

Niko was wrapped in a hug that filled him with more than just relief. It was like waking from one of his nightmares. It was not over yet, but now he could see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Zevran released him and they moved swiftly towards the packs and weapons left outside the cell. Alistair was already securing his heavy armor when Niko started pulling his clothes back on. Zevran helped by securing each poison flask back in to their pouches, though he didn't ask why they were out in the first place.

"How did you manage to get to us?" Alistair was asking as he strapped his shield back on.

"Tch. I am a professional," Zevran said, feigning offense. "I can bluff my way into Ferelden's greatest fortress, no problem... You should keep that in mind when you are king."

Alistair grimaced. "I suppose that means there will be plenty of guards left to fight once we get out of the dungeon."

"I am so  _touched_  by your gratitude," Morrigan said with a glare.

"Thank you," Niko piped up while putting his greaves back on. Honestly, he was so focused on staying on his feet that he'd forgotten to say it. The putrid air and the fog in his head was just too overwhelming.

He grabbed his gloves and pulled them on, noting the tear in the left one; it would either need to be mended or replaced. At the same time, Zevran fastened his belts around his waist for him. It was then that Zevran noticed the finger-shaped bruises beginning to form around the Warden's neck. It gave him pause and he opened his mouth to say something, but Niko stepped away.

His sword and dagger were drawn as he marched towards the exit, the corner of his eye catching sight of broken, lacerated, naked bodies lying in the pit of the dungeon.

"I'm ready to get the hell out of this place."

-o-o-o-

The bloodstains on their armor weren't as visible in the dead of night, though they still took as many back streets to Arl Eamon's estate as they could manage.

It wasn't until they were standing in the main room that Niko began to feel safe again. The large space was only dimly lit this time of night, but these walls were comforting compared to those of Fort Drakon.

It was strange to be back here, dirtying the carpet as they walked through the foyer. It was as if it really had just been a nightmare, because everything here was still the same as they'd left it. Nothing had really changed… except now Arl Howe was dead. And the Queen was safe. Despite the setback and that horrid experience at Fort Drakon, their mission had been successful.

Seeing Shale stationed in the corner was also a welcome sight. Her glowing eyes turned to them with a lack of enthusiasm. "The rescue plan did not fail then? That  _is_  a surprise."

"Why does everyone doubt my talents of subterfuge?" Zevran complained.

"Hey Wardens!"

They all turned around, spotting a red-headed dwarf stumbling away from the kitchens.

"Heheh! I knew they couldn't hold ya." Oghren raised a bottle of some vile looking liquid that Niko could smell from across the room. "Here's to your daring escape!" He kicked back the bottle to guzzle what was left, then belched.

Shale scoffed. "Disgusting."

Oghren chuckled again. "You just wish you could have some, ya old rock."

Niko smiled to himself, reminded again how glad he was to be back here. He and Alistair parted with Zevran and Morrigan at the top of the stairs to head to the Arl's room. They found the door wide open. Eamon, Queen Anora, and Erlina were all gathered up there when the Wardens walked in, bloody boots and all.

"Maker's breath!" Eamon exclaimed. "It's good to see you in one piece, my friend."

"Indeed," Anora agreed while the arl affectionately patted Alistair's shoulder. "We have been praying for your safe return, Wardens."

"What happens now?" Niko asked.

"We will need to work together, and quickly," Anora spoke up before Arl Eamon could. "My father has gone mad. I didn't believe it at first, but he is gripped by a paranoia so severe it prevents him from seeing sense. He saw me as a threat, yet even now I'm certain he will be telling the nobles that you are dangerous murderers that have kidnapped and mind-controlled me. He may even believe it."

"Can he still take the throne without you?" Niko asked.

"Perhaps," she answered. "It will be more difficult for him, but if my father says the Grey Wardens are the enemy, many will believe it. He is a legend."

"It's true," Eamon concurred. "Our position in the Landsmeet is not strong, and this does little to help us."

"At least that snake Howe is dead," the Queen added. "That alone will not be enough, however. My father is committed to his path. You will need ammunition for the Landsmeet, and there I can help." All eyes turned to her, which was probably the usual response her confidence claimed. "You have only just arrived in the city, so perhaps you are unaware of some… recent events. Denerim has been in turmoil since Ostagar. Many people here are angry and grieving."

Niko knew that much. This wasn't his first time in Denerim since the battle. Sergeant Kylon had made it very clear that the city was quite a mess.

"Strangely, the unrest is worse in the alienage," Anora said, gaining Niko's rapt attention. "Few elves accompanied the army. They should have little reason to be upset. Which means Howe and my father must have given them reason."

"Wait," Niko interrupted, eyes narrowing on her. "There was a  _purge_. Howe called for a purge of the alienage. You had to have known."

He suddenly thought of King Cailian; how the man had expressed that he wanted to visit the Alienage and had no idea what it was like. Anora was probably exactly the same. They had been bred to rule a kingdom, and elves didn't matter to a kingdom. They were tucked into a corner and forgotten as best as one could manage.

"Yes, but I don't know what  _exactly_  is happening there," she said a little sharply. "But I am certain my father has his hands in it."

Arl Eamon's eyes slanted in suspicion. "A useful lead, Anora, but… you could have sent this information with your maid."

"That is true. I feared for my safety as Howe's prisoner," she admitted. "But to tell the truth, I sent Erlina to you because I hoped we might join forces. You need that evidence for the Landsmeet, but you also need a stronger candidate for the throne." She set her shoulders and looked them each in the eye. "You need me."

"It sounds more like you need us," Niko couldn't help but point out. He had nothing against her. She wasn't Loghain, but she was his daughter. Furthermore, she wasn't Alistair. Alistair was someone Niko knew, someone he trusted. The Queen was an unknown element, and the idea of her jumping in and throwing off the plan made him uneasy.

"I have no doubt Alistair is biddable enough, and decent, but even with his blood he is no king," she said as if he weren't in the room with them. "You think only I can see it?"

Niko traded glances with Alistair, whose expression seemed to say 'She makes a point.' The elven Warden shook his head.

"Not only that," Anora went on, with both elegance and authority. "Alistair is a Grey Warden. It will look like you are trying to put a Grey Warden on the throne, despite your claims. I am a neutral party – and I am already Queen."

"Anora," the arl chimed in. "You are indeed Cailan's widow, but…"

"I am the daughter of Ferelden's greatest general. Who do you think truly ruled this nation for the last five years?" Anora challenged. "Cailan?" She lifted her chin. It seemed her every word and movement projected royalty, grace, and influence. "I am what this country needs, not an untrained king who does not even want the throne. I can help you stop my father. Consider what I have said. For now, I think I will retire to my room. Warden," she said, looking to Niko. "When you have a moment, I ask that you speak to me in private."

She walked from the room with more poise and dignity than Niko had ever seen, Erlina following a few steps behind her.

"Well, she's quite… spirited." The arms Arl Eamon had crossed over his chest now dropped to his sides. "I remember when Loghain first brought her to Denerim. Poor Cailan was a good boy, but Anora was always two steps ahead. Had him jumping when she snapped since the first time she batted her eyelashes."

' _So she knows how to get what she's after,'_  Niko thought. It was easy to believe; she was certainly a dynamic individual.

"I cannot help thinking she may be trouble," Arl Eamon went on. "But we should keep her close, all the same."

"Why do you think she's trouble?" Niko asked. He had his own reasons for not trusting the Queen, but he wanted to hear what the others thought. He noticed Alistair was staying rather quiet about all this; perhaps he disagreed… or didn't want to add to their reasons for putting him on the throne in her place.

"This is an alliance of convenience," Eamon said, a fact that Niko had already gathered himself. "For the moment we are united against Loghain. Be careful how much trust you place in her. I do not for a moment think Anora means to give up her power easily. Still, I would rather have her where we can watch her than actively working for Loghain."

"Even though we plan to depose her?"

"Anora was a capable administrator for Cailan's lands, but she has not a drop of royal blood," Eamon said. "We did not fight the Orlesians all those years just to lose our royal line in a single generation. Not when there is a surviving son of the blood."

They both glanced to Alistair, who had already trailed over to a nearby bookshelf so he could pretend not to listen.

"Of course, if I might make a suggestion: Go speak with Anora," the arl advised. "She will either be a powerful ally or a powerful enemy, and the sooner we know which she is, the better."

Honestly, Niko could care less about royal blood lines. But apparently it mattered to some Fereldens – or maybe a lot of them. He wanted Alistair on the throne because that was the plan they'd laid out, and because he trusted Alistair's character. The fact that he didn't really want to be king only made him more suitable, in Niko's opinion. People who sought out power on their own… they were always dangerous. Nothing proved that more than all the people they'd met on the way here.

Of course, the fact that Alistair was his friend and had made it clear that he didn't want to be King was a stumbling point for Niko. It was a subject they avoided talking about together because they both knew it had to be done anyway and there was no way around it.

Sighing, Niko decided to change the subject. "I've got to go to the alienage to see what's happened."

"Perhaps you should rest first," the arl said, taking on a tone of insistence that surprised the Warden, who had just been turning to leave.

Before Niko could respond, Alistair stepped forward and chimed in. "That might be a good idea," he told his friend carefully. "We haven't slept at all yet and… you are still injured."

"I can rest once I know my family is alive," Niko told them. "They've been locked behind those gates for months enduring Maker knows what."

"The alienage gates are not yet open anyway," the arl said. "I have someone working on that, but it will take some time. You will likely not be able to enter until morning at least."

"Fine," Niko contended, turning to leave.

"Also, you should know," the arl spoke up again. "There is a Grey Warden here; Riordan. Though I suppose you both already met him. He is staying in a room down the hall from you."

"So he did get out!" Alistair said, beaming.

"I'm sure he is asleep now at this late hour… as we all should be," Eamon said pointedly.

Alistair and Niko both nodded and left his room to return to their own quarters. When they reached the hall where the guest rooms were situated, they were both heart-warmed to see most of their companions peeking out of their bedrooms. They all looked so tired, but more than that they looked relieved.

"It is good to see you are both alright," Leliana said, coming over to give them both a small hug before returning to her room.

Sten gave them a silent nod. "You have returned, Kadan. You had some of us very concerned." He glanced down to where Gideon emerged from behind him, the hound's tail wagging fanatically. When he could no longer contain his excitement, he ran towards Niko. The elf smiled and knelt down just in time to receive a slobbery kiss. He held his bandaged hand away so the overexcited dog didn't accidentally bump the wound.

"Are you going to let me heal that, young man?" Wynne asked, though it was more of a demand.

He rose to his feet again, giving a tired sigh though he smiled at her. "I suppose."

"And Alistair? Are you alright?" the old mage asked.

"Yes I'm fine," he said. "But um… I do have a new hole in my shirt that needs mending, if you could..."

She tutted at him. "Didn't the arl give you a change of clothes?"

"Yes, but… they're so…  _frilly_ ," Alistair said with distaste.

Niko disagreed. He quite liked the expensive clothes the arl gifted to them. They made him feel distinguished, and they looked rather good on Zevran, too. The assassin was leaning against the wall amongst the group, a smug look on his face for being the hero tonight. Of course he and Morrigan had  _both_  rescued them, but she was in her room now. Knowing the Wardens were safe and where they should be was enough for her. She could do without the "welcome home party".

After the gash on his hand, the bruising on his neck, and what turned out to be a mild concussion were healed by Wynne, Niko and Zevran both returned to the Warden's bedroom, Gideon following on their heels. The room was huge, with a floor space larger than his father's house back in the alienage. A large bed was against the left wall and a fireplace was all the way across the room near a cozy sitting area. It was heavily decorated too; fur rugs, two big ornate carpets, some house plants, a dresser and a vanity, large vases, and more shelving and storage than was needed. There were even some animal heads mounted on the wall.

Gideon took advantage of all the room and curled up on the carpet by the fireplace while Zevran sat on the edge of the bed. He watched the Warden walk over to a water basin, where he washed his face, still covered in sweat, blood, and mabari slobber. It was reassuring for him to watch Niko go through the mundane rituals of unbuckling his armor, clumsily pulling off his boots, and scrubbing the remnants of the day's trials from his skin.

 _Another day, another harrowing escape_ , Zevran thought. That's why it was comforting to see Niko now, in front of him, in one piece. They had all lived to tell another tale.

And after that confession…

After what had and hadn't been said between he and Niko, Zev wasn't sure what he would have done if they never got to see each other again. Even now, he wasn't sure what to do with these feelings between them, even knowing that the feelings were reciprocated. It was dangerous. The panic he'd felt when Niko was captured... not knowing if he was alive of dead or being tortured… It was new to Zevran to care so much about someone else, to worry for them so often. He didn't know how to deal with it.

"So it looks like I have a few hours before they let me in to the alienage."

Zevran's gaze snapped up to see the Warden looking at him, leaning shirtless against the vanity with a smirk on his face that seemed a little forced. Even his cheery tone was coated with a hint of bitterness.

Before Zevran could think of a response, Niko pushed off the vanity and stepped forward to join him on the bed. "Care to help me kill some time?"

Zevran winced, feeling strangely dreadful about the proposition. "No, I…" Niko suddenly frowned and Zevran cursed himself. "No, I mean no offense, I simply… no."

' _What is wrong with me?'_  Zevran wondered. Where were all his smooth words? Where were his quick-witted excuses? He was so... confused! Normally, Niko initiating sex – and in such an alluring tone! – put him right in the mood. But this time, he felt like there was no right way to respond.

"Is something wrong?" Niko asked.

No, no, no he was not having this conversation. Not when his thoughts and feelings made no sense. There was no way to put any of this confusion into words. "I do not wish to talk about it," he told Niko. It was all Zevran could offer him, and he hoped the Warden would leave it at that.

"Alright then…"

Zevran sighed in relief. "Good. Besides, you really should rest."

"What about you?" Niko asked. "You haven't slept either."

The assassin paused, wondering if it was too late to go seek out another guest room.

"Aren't you staying?" Niko asked, frowning at him, and his question was so close to a plea that Zevran couldn't bear to say no. Especially after all they had been through tonight.

"Mm." Zevran stood and crossed over to the other side of the bed, undoing the two braids in his hair. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to get any rest. His mind was so cluttered with questions and confusion.

"I don't know if I can sleep," Niko said as he climbed into bed under the thick blanket, basically mirroring Zevran's thoughts.

When did their minds become so symbiotic? He wondered.

"Why is that?" Zevran asked gently as he got into bed beside the Warden. His movements were hesitant… awkward… Thankfully Niko did not notice since he was staring at the wall.

"Because…" He spoke numbly. "Soon I'm going to find out what happened to my home."

"Is that not what you have wanted all this time?" Zevran asked. He remembered the first day he had travelled with the Wardens; the day Niko discovered the Alienage was purged and the gates were closed. He remembered Niko's near-violent reaction to the news delivered by the guard and how he'd shut himself away in his tent until dinner.

Niko turned over to face him and Zevran felt dismayed at the lack of light in his lover's eyes, now filled with sadness.

"…I'll either be seeing my family or hearing about how they died. I-…I'll know which one soon. But I'm scared."

Zevran was quiet as Niko settled his head down in the pillows. He had never had any family; never had anything like that to fear losing or to mourn the loss of. He didn't know what to say, so he laid down next to the Warden, taking his hand in his own.

"Do you want me with you when you go?" he offered.

Niko's eyes met Zevran's and a little bit of the sadness was lifted from his gaze. "Yes," he answered.

Zevran gave his hand a squeeze. "Then I will be there."

-o-o-o-

The next morning, Niko felt as good as could be expected given the stressing circumstances and the awful night he'd just had. As eager as he was to get to the Alienage, he allowed himself a quick breakfast with his companions first. Riordan was sitting at the head of the dining table, so Niko and Alistair took up chairs on either side of him.

The older Grey Warden smiled at them. "Hello again, friends. It looks as though you're no worse for the wear after your stay in Fort Drakon," he said in that gravelly voice of his.

"What about you?" Alistair asked. "Were you badly hurt?"

"Nothing a bit of rest and healing will not fix in time."

"So what are your plans now?" Niko asked as he slathered some honey on his bread.

"When I'm well enough, I'm going to continue my journey toward Ostagar. Hopefully, I will be able to trace the heart of the Blight and where the archdemon itself abides," he told them. "If we want to defeat this archdemon, we need to know where it is and how soon it might strike."

Both Niko and Alistair stared at him, blinking in surprise. While he was curious about just how Riordan would be able to trace the Blight, Niko had something more important to ask. "You're going alone? Shouldn't I go with you?"

Not that he wanted to leave, but if he must then Alistair would probably be able to handle this Landsmeet business without him. They'd already secured a few votes from the nobles after informing them of what Howe had done to some of their families. Not to mention that business with the Crows; in a rather vague and suspicious way, Master Ignacio had informed them that it had helped their own cause in some way. They had yet to find out how.

"If there were more of us, I would agree," Riordan said, bringing him back to the conversation. "But as it is, I don't think we can deprive all the armies you've gathered of a commander."

They both nodded and ate their food in silence for a bit, listening to the chatter going on at the rest of the table.

"Did you know Duncan very well?" Niko asked Riordan suddenly.

The older Warden smiled again, albeit a bit sadly. "We went through our Joining together, more years ago than I like to remember. He was exactly the same back then – tough as stone and just as grizzled."

Niko grinned. He had trouble picturing Duncan any other way.

"I think he understood, sooner than the rest of us, how ugly a choice it is to let the few be sacrificed to protect the many." Riordan went on. Niko couldn't help but think of Ser Jory and Daveth, and the look in Duncan's eyes when he apologized to them for their deaths. "Always left himself a soft spot for his recruits, though. Only way he ever let himself down."

Alistair looked up from his meal then, both sadness and fondness in his eyes. Niko decided to change the subject.

"Oh, could you tell me about that vault you mentioned again?"

"It's located just off the Market District, in the northern alley past the Gnawed Noble Tavern."

Niko nodded. "I know where that is."

"I'll sketch out the code which will let you past the lock-wheel," Riordan promised, fishing in his pocket for a scrap of paper but not finding any. "Inside, you can take your pick of whatever equipment remains. It is the stockpile the Wardens have kept for centuries for the defense of Denerim."

"Thank you," Niko said. "We can try to stop there after we check on the Alienage. We have to go to the Tavern anyway to talk to some nobles."

Feeling eyes on him, he glanced up to see Queen Anora looking at him from the open doorway. She gave a polite nod, making eye contact, and then moved on in her graceful way.

That's right. He was supposed to talk to her… Niko supposed he could have a quick conversation before they left. Stuffing the last of his breakfast into his mouth, he excused himself, promising to catch up with Alistair outside. Then he jogged back upstairs to the guest rooms. Anora's was at the end of the hall on the left, and her door was open.

"Hello again, Warden," she greeted from inside as he stepped in. "It is good that you came to speak with me. I will be blunt," she said, getting right to the point, for which he was glad. "I can see that your voice will be a strong one in days to come. It is to you that Eamon listens, and with good reason."

This surprised Niko, because he hadn't quite seen it that way. But he listened.

"My father must be stopped," Anora said. "But once that is done, Ferelden will need a ruler." She smiled at him. "I would welcome your support for my throne."

Niko supposed he should have saw that coming, but the request still made his heart drop into the pit of his stomach. She was polite, making it hard to just say "no" outright. But he knew that beneath the cordiality, there was calculation and an overflow of ambition. This was not a person he wanted to face head on, because it would not be a battle fought with swords… and she would probably best him.

"Why should I support you?" he asked her.

"For years I have ruled this kingdom as Cailan's queen. As much as they loved Cailan, all of the Bannorn knew this to be so. Cailan was a good man. But what is needed now is not another good man but a good ruler," she told him, maintaining eye contact. "I sent Erlina here not solely because I thought I needed help, but because I saw an opportunity. For us both. I need your support, Warden. And you will need mine."

Niko wanted to tell her that where he was from, the person sitting on the throne didn't make much of a difference. They were worlds apart even in the same city. The fact was, though, that no matter who the ruler was, no one ever touched the Alienage. No one ever endeavored to make it better, and the people who were bred to rule the kingdom were encouraged to put it out of their minds.

Alistair wasn't raised that way though, and he was Niko's friend. He might actually do something for the elves if Niko showed him that it was important.

"I think Alistair would be a good man and a strong ruler," he put forth. "After some training."

"Alistair seems like a kind, well-meaning man, and biddable enough. These are admirable qualities, if not kingly ones," she admitted. "He also seems to be a fine Grey Warden – which is exactly why he should remain one, and serve the kingdom by defeating the darkspawn."

"So he'd be a good king and a good warrior," Niko pointed out. "Sounds good to me."

"Oh, there are some who would follow Alistair out of respect for his Theirin blood. The others," Anora pointed out, "would see it as Eamon grabbing for power. Who else do you think Alistair would turn to for help? Eventually the nobility would return to the old days of constant warring with each other. Alistair's weakness would destroy everything Maric's built."

Niko's eyes narrowed. That seemed a bit of a stretch to make. Ferelden might actually like Alistair as king, especially once they learn all he's done to protect them from the Blight. "So you're proposing an alliance then?"

"That is exactly what I am proposing. When the time comes, you support my bid in the Landsmeet to remain on the throne. You will be seen as my father's enemy, yet you will be in support of his daughter. You will be seen as supporting the interests of Ferelden as opposed to those of the Grey Wardens," she explained. "In return, I add my voice to yours. Do you see? Together we can do what alone we cannot."

Niko shook his head. "I can't, I'm sorry. I can't support you. I really do believe in Alistair."

"Ah. That's too bad." Her mouth was set in a straight line, carefully not showing much reaction.

With a skeptical glance, Niko decided to try something. "Will you support Alistair at the Landsmeet?"

"I'll tell you this," Anora said. "My father must be stopped. Once he is kept from the throne, if it should fall to Alistair then I will be content."

Niko nodded, glad that this conversation turned out better than he expected. "I should be going."

"Then I wish you luck, Warden."

He turned from her door and went to go meet up with Wynne, Alistair, and Zevran. It was time to find out what had happened to his home.


	21. Elves at the Mercy of Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Niko finally returns home. Will he always feel just a little bit too late to the rescue?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay a few things. One, I'm an idiot and just realized I forgot to post this update. I apologize. Two, I decided to go back and change the encounter with Taliesen (and Master Ignacio) in chapter 18. I felt like it needed more from Zev's POV. And three, my PS3 is not working. Hopefully I can get it fixed, or I will have to save up for a new one. This means that until then, I cannot do what I have been doing, which is playing through and then writing this fic as I go along. I should still be able to write regularly, and I do have scenes up until the Landsmeet documented, but it might cause a problem. We'll see. We're nearing the end now.
> 
> By the way (and if you are still reading this author's note at this point, bless you), I don't normally outright ask for reviews, but this chapter is particularly important to me. Shiannia has a small but impressive character arc in the game and I plan to explore it (and it will enfold more so in the sequel I have planned than in this fic). So if you are of a mind to, please let me know how I did. I appreciate it.
> 
> Chapter Rating: M for violence and gore
> 
> Warnings: Slavery, depictions of rape-related trauma. I would call it mild, but I don't want to assume when it comes to potentially triggering content.
> 
> Pairing: Zevran/(M)Tabris

Lecherous laughter sent shivers down her spine while clammy hands painted bruises under her dress with their rough hold. Vaughan's face she could clearly see. Though everything else became a quick blur, his face was always burned into her mind. His disgusting words drilled into her head.

_Knife-ears!_

_Slut!_

_Whore!_

Each one brought more tears. Suddenly she felt too many hands in too many places, covering her mouth, invading her body, and holding her down. She couldn't move, trapped with force and cruelty. And the screaming… the screaming was so loud…

Shianni woke with a start, realizing it was her own screams she heard. Finding that the pressure pinning her body down was gone, she shot up from the thin mattress with heaving breaths and cold sweat dotting her skin.

Seeing a figure standing in the middle of the room, her mouth suddenly snapped shut, embarrassed at herself. It was Soris, of course. Who else? He stood with an armful of splintered firewood, his eyes wide and helpless as he stared at her.

Shianni looked away, tucking sweat-streaked hair behind her ears and getting out of bed. She'd pretend like nothing had happened so her cousin would not have to stumble his way around an awkward attempt at comforting her. Soris never knew how to react to her nightmares, though she hadn't had any that bad in a few months now. And she didn't want a hug or a pat on the shoulder. There was a pit of anger within that boiled just below the surface whenever anyone looked at her the way Soris just had. She'd meant it when she told Niko that she didn't want anyone to look at her any differently. But Soris had been there that day, had come to the rescue alongside Niko. He knew what happened. So what must he see when he looked at her now? She shuddered at the thought.

Avoiding eye contact, her eyes fell on the small stack of boards and sticks in Soris's arms as she brushed by. "Is that all you could get?"

Soris nodded wordlessly and set the wood he'd collected down with their uncle's dwindling supply in the corner by the fireplace.

"I'll get more later," he told her, staring at the floorboards with shame. "...This was all I was able to collect before some guys ran me off."

Shianni's lips pursed together as she looked at him. After the purge, things had changed drastically around the Alienage. Of the few houses that were burnt in the chaos, only fractured scraps remained, former homes gutted and blackened with only charred leftovers. That's where a lot of elves were getting their firewood these days. Soris hadn't been run off for that, Shianni knew. He'd been run off because he wasn't exactly popular around here since the purge. He had been a hero for a few days following the rescue from the Arl's castle. The elves praised his and Niko's names.

But then the purge came by order of the new Arl of Denerim; punishment for what happened to Vaughan and the palace full of guards. Since Niko wasn't around to take any of the blame, Soris had to bear it all. And he wasn't equipped for it the way their cousin would have been if he were here.

Shianni remembered the first day the soldiers had come. The gates were shut and anyone standing gawking in the street were the first ones cut down. No warning. At the time, Shianni had been in the apartment she shared with her brother, Mathon, and his wife and heard the shouting and crying from the second floor. Huddled with her sister-in-law in the corner of the room, they screamed when the door busted in. Thankfully, it had only been Mathon. But the look of frantic terror in her brother's eyes as he barred the door shut with all the furniture in the apartment scared Shianni to the core.

There had been rioting, a few groups of elves taking up whatever weapons they could find and attacking the human soldiers. They were all cut down, and that's when the posters went up; "Bearing arms is strictly prohibited: Elves who have swords will die upon them."

There was still some resistance, but all that came to an end when the soldiers did the worst thing they could think of. In the middle of the night, they raided the orphanage. The cries of children and slaughter woke the whole alienage that night. Morning found many elves, including the Hahren, weeping openly in the streets. It had utterly broken them, draining the Alienage of hope.

With a tired sigh, Shianni took the pot of water off the fire and poured it into the tub for herself. Soris left then, probably to get more wood or to check Uncle Cyrion's garden. Not knowing how long he'd be gone, Shianni drew the tattered privacy curtain before she stripped for a bath. The water was shallow, but it was the best she could do for now. Summer was fast approaching with the possibility of droughts, and they needed to ration their water supply in case the gates were not open any time soon.

As she scrubbed the sweat still clinging to her skin, she thought she should probably count herself lucky that she hadn't lost any family to the purge, as it was not something everyone around here could say. But it was hard to feel lucky now with her Uncle Cyrion gone. And Valendrian. Not to mention Niko…

She shut her eyes against the threat of tears, thinking about the funeral they'd held for him just months ago. Sometimes that felt like the biggest injustice of all. Her cousin had been given the opportunity to make something amazing out of his life. He'd made it out of the slums and into a prestigious order of warriors. It was perfect for him. He was going to be a hero and a legend just like she'd always imagined him. Travelling the country, slaying monsters, and saving people… With that fire in his eyes... She still remembered that look; that valiant image of him had roused hope within her at the darkest, most awful moment of her life. Those first few weeks after Niko was gone were rough, especially on her uncle Cyrion. Shianni found herself spending a lot of time here at his home to keep him company, and to get her mind off of her own pain. Reminding themselves that Niko was on to big things gave them hope and kept them smiling through all the changes.

" _Next time we see him, he'll be riding a griffon through Denerim,"_  Shianni had said over dinner one night, earning a lot of smiles and laughter.

But then the news of Ostagar hit the alienage; the darkspawn had completely decimated the army in a hopeless battle. The King and the Grey Wardens were dead.

Shianni had cried silent, bitter tears, but the look on her uncle's face had stunned her. Seeing all hope completely drop from one man's eyes… it made her wonder what was the point of going on.

Valendrian held a funeral in front of the vhenadahl just for Niko. Alarith had supplied candles and floral arrangements. Some of the flowers still lay scattered near the base of the tree, trampled into the dirt or singed in the purging fires. Shianni had saved one from that fate. It was pressed into her favorite book sitting on one of Cyrion's shelves _; Adventures of the Black Fox_  by Gaston Gerrault. It was probably one of the more valuable books Cyrion owned and had been one of Niko's favorites as well. He never liked to read anything himself, Shianni remembered. Not that he didn't know how; Valendrian tried to teach as many of the children how to read as he could. But her cousin preferred having someone read to him like Adaia had when he was little. Sometimes, as teenagers, when it was too cold or rainy outside to play, they had sat by the fire in Niko's house – Soris too – and just took turns reading to each other.

These memories brought a fond smile to her face, but it faded fast. Nothing good ever lasted. She'd learned that all too well. As lucky as she'd been not to lose any family to the purge, she now had something new to worry about and it had already claimed her uncle and the Hahren.

The Tevinter mages had shown up not too long after they got the news about Ostagar. First refugees spilled in to the city and then some people started getting sick. It wasn't a huge problem; there was often an infection or some other sickness going around the alienage. At the time, a lot of people were more concerned about the locked gates. Some kin had been locked out. And no one inside was able to get to their jobs or trade supplies outside the alienage easily. Thankfully they had a community garden for those without their own, but it didn't keep every single elf from going hungry. Times were tougher than usual, and the sickness going around was just one more problem. But then those mages swooped in with their "selfless aid". Shianni didn't trust them one bit. Humans never helped them out of the goodness of their hearts. But people were lining up to receive their bullshit anyway. And people were  _still_  getting sick and passing out in the streets despite the magical intervention.

Her inner rage stirred just at the thought of them. Quickly, she washed her hair so she could get out before the water got too cold. By the time she was dressed and putting her usual ties in her hair, Soris had returned with some wilted cabbages and other vegetables. The garden wasn't doing so well, especially without Cyrion's special touch.

"Where are you going?" Soris asked, watching her head for the door.

"To check on my brother," she half-lied. Opening the door to leave, she paused and looked back at him as he set the vegetables on the table. "Make sure you clean up after yourself this time."

Soris scoffed at her, but with only half the heart he used to put into it. "I know, Shianni."

The two of them had been helping take care of the house for Cyrion ever since Niko's funeral. Shianni was pretty sure her uncle had only allowed it because he really needed the company. But now that Cyrion was in the hospice quarantine by the Tevinter mages – or so they claimed – she supposed that she and Soris would basically be house-sitting for him; keeping out the looters and attempting to keep it as clean as their uncle always did. She hoped someone was doing the same for Valendrian. He'd been quarantined a few days before Cyrion.

Giving her cousin a nod, Shianni closed the door behind herself and stepped out into a warm spring morning. It wouldn't be long until that sweltering summer heat came down on them once again. It would be nearly a whole year since… well since  _everything_  happened. Everything that started it all; that horrible day that was almost a wedding.

Pushing that thought away, she focused on keeping her eyes straight ahead instead of on the ground. Her brother's apartment was on the other side of the alienage. He lived there with his wife – one of Valendrian's matches, since their parents were dead – a sweet girl from the Gwaren alienage that he'd married almost two years ago. It had been a nice, simple wedding and it was also the first time Shianni had ever snuck a taste of booze. A fond memory. The apartment she'd shared alone with Mathon for years was suddenly home to one more. To give them some privacy, Shianni had ended up spending a lot of nights at her Uncle Cyrion's house, utilizing the top bunk above Niko's bed. Yet Mathon and his wife still hadn't had any children, something the couple was occasionally ribbed for by the other married couples. It was probably a good thing though, Shianni thought as she kept to herself along a muck-covered cobblestone path. As much as she would have loved being an aunt, she was grateful her brother and his wife didn't have children to worry over right now. Not with everything going on here.

She had only been half-lying when she told Soris that she was going to see her brother. She did intend to go check on him, but not before she checked on the hospice. If there was a chance she could see her uncle, or the hahren, or save someone else from disappearing inside the hospice… then it was worth coming out here every day like she did.

The size of the crowd was appalling; almost twice as many people gathered outside as there had been yesterday. Crossing her arms and standing out of the way, her glare settled on the tan mage with the neatly-trimmed beard in front of the door. He was one of the men who had "escorted" Valendrian in to the hospice when he obviously didn't need it.

Well it was obvious to her at least. Everyone else was fine with trusting a bunch of strange shems and lining up to take whatever was given to them.

"I don't want to get sick," one man a little older than her complained in a pathetic tone.

Shianni shook her head. "If you're really so worried about this plague, go home," she tried to reason, using as much patience as she could muster. "Crowding around here is what will make you sick."

She was ignored, as she often was. At the head of the crowd, a young woman stepped forward to receive the mage's aid. He waved his hand over her, saying a quiet little chant.

Shianni huffed a mirthless laugh, rolling her eyes. "How do you even know they're working magic?" she challenged, louder. "They could be chanting gibberish! It's not as if you'd ever know!"

She received a few glares and scoffs, only prompting her to more indignation and anger. She was desperate to do something, anything that might help. Someone had to.

"How can you even be here?" Shianni demanded of the crowd, stepping forward. "How many of our brothers and sisters and children have these men already taken?"

 _And uncles_ , she thought to herself.

Again she was ignored. Like a crazy person or the town idiot that no one wanted to be associated with, the only response she received was the crowd subtly stepping away from her. Her own people.

' _But what even am I to them?'_ She thought bitterly.  _'Still just a child!'_

A pale woman, who had sunken cheeks that made her look older than she actually was, spoke up with helpless exasperation. "I've got children at home. I can't wait out here for another day!"

Shianni pounced on the opportunity, stepping up to the crowd once again. "So go home! The best thing you can do for your children is not trust these charlatans!"

Several people turned to look at her now, including the mage at the door, though he addressed the crowd instead.

"Everyone remain calm," he told them. "We will help as many as we can today, so long as we can do this in an orderly fashion."

"Oh you're 'helping' us, are you shem?" Shianni shouted at him, her righteous anger rising, along with her pain. "Like Valendrian and my Uncle Cyrion, you helped them, didn't you? Helped them never to be seen again!"

The mage's eyes, full of exhausted annoyance, settled on her as he sighed. "We've explained this to you before, girl. More whining will not persuade us to let you into the quarantine to carry plague back out to the Alienage."

Shianni opened her mouth to curse him out, but an elf standing on the edge of the crowd turned and glared at her. "Quit trying to get us all killed, Shianni! Some of us have still got things to live for."

That insult cut deeper than anyone would know. There were plenty of times recently where Shianni had questioned whether there was anything left for her to live for. Right after the almost-wedding, she'd shut herself off, wallowing in shame and self-loathing. She hadn't been able see a future for herself anymore; nothing bright and happy to look forward to. Then the guards came and there was too much chaos and too much danger to flounder anymore. She'd had to pick herself up and carry on because there was no other choice. A lot of people had lost everything and the alienage was failing. There was a lot of lost hope...

She let the slight go and focused on what she was here for right now. "If this spell of theirs works, why are half the people they quarantine perfectly healthy?" she challenged.

"Shianni? Is that really you?"

She froze, that familiar voice suddenly flipping the world upside down… or maybe righted it a bit.

Wondering if she was dreaming, she turned around to see her cousin walking up to her, clad in expensive leather armor and carrying a sword longer than his arm… like something out of the fairytale books they used to read as kids. He was slightly bigger and stronger looking, and still walked with the fearlessness and confidence she had always seen in him.

"I don't believe it," she said, feeling the grin taking over her face though her voice shook. Niko's expression mirrored her own.

She really didn't believe it at first. The boy she grew up with, looked up to all her life, was supposed to be dead. But here he was… bigger and better than ever it seemed.

For the first time in a long time, Shianni felt a surge of great hope.

-o-o-o-

"Maker's breath!" Shianni exclaimed as the truth of his presence really set in. "They said all the Grey Wardens died with the king. Everyone thought…" The grin dropped from her face. "Valendrian even held a funeral for you."

Niko's eyebrows rose in surprise, his smile disappearing as well. Being so concerned about their welfare all these long months, he hadn't considered that they might have presumed  _him_  to be dead.

"Cousin, you have no idea… the things that happened after your wedding…"

Oh yes, that…

Niko froze because, behind him, he could practically feel his companions' collective surprise, and their sudden, questioning stares pounding on his back.

Shianni noticed and it gave her pause, unsure what the heavy silence stemmed from. "I'm babbling, aren't I?" She grinned again at her cousin, stepping forward for a brief but tender hug. "I'm so happy to see you!"

Niko smiled at her, genuine relief and love in his eyes when they parted.

"A wedding?" Zevran spoke up, staring at his lover. "So there is a secretive side to you after all…"

Though he was trying to make light of it, Niko had caught the hint of disappointment in the assassin's tone. It surprised him, actually, that this might bother Zevran. Though, if he thought about it, if Zevran has said he'd been planning to marry Rinna or someone else before they'd met, it probably would have bothered him too. But it wasn't like he had wanted to get married in the first place.

He crossed his arms. "It wasn't my idea," he told them.

"Still, you never told me you were betrothed," Alistair said, both somewhat amused and surprised that Niko never shared this with him. "What happened?"

Niko shook his head. He hadn't even meant it to be a secret really. There just seemed to be no good reason to bring it up, considering that it had turned into a tale of vengeance and violence rather than romance or celebration. And he  _had_  told them the violent, vengeful part. "Imagine a storybook wedding," he said, turning to look at Alistair. "This was the opposite."

Zevran nodded, seeming to understand. "At least we can be sure you looked stunning for the occasion."

Shianni was glancing between them with a questioning look. But she let the thought pass for now, her tired gaze settling on Niko. "So much has happened… It's good you're home."

Niko glanced around the crowd, surprised the Hahren wasn't around. "Where is Valendrian?" He asked. The fact that he wasn't here to quell this disorder didn't bode well.

Shianni frowned, wringing her pale hands nervously. "He's… well, that's something I want to talk to you about, actually." She gestured to the head of the crowd, her expression turning angry. "They took him! These Tevinters took him into that house days ago, and no one's seen him since! They said he had the plague. But he didn't, Cousin," she said, her eyes desperately pleading with him to believe her. "He was healthy as a war hound. And now they've got him, and won't let anyone see him."

Her accusations had caught some attention again. The same guy who had been arguing with Shianni when Niko had first spotted her turned to them.

"They're educated men, Shianni; they'd know if he had the plague. And it's not as if Valendrian would make a show of illness even if he were on his deathbed."

Niko's eyes slanted at the guy – it was Efram or Elkan or something like that – but didn't say anything to him. Niko remembered that he'd worked for one of the nobles, but that was about all he knew about him. He made a good point about Valendrian being stubborn, but he put too much faith in these foreigners.

"Just because they're educated, doesn't mean they're trustworthy," Niko said, looking to Shianni again. "What about my father? He's in there, too, isn't he? Soris told me they'd taken him in."

"The Tevinters quarantined your father yesterday," she told him sadly. "I told him not to go to the hospice! Not one elf they've taken in there has come out again. Who knows what's become of them?"

"How long has this quarantine been going on?" Niko asked, glancing around at the crowd, some of them coughing and others complaining.

"Since the army fell at Ostagar," Shianni informed. "People came here fleeing the darkspawn, bringing Blight sickness with them. After the refugees arrived, people here got sick. And these Tevinter vultures began circling, taking people out of the Alienage a few at a time."

"Well, what can the Tevinters do about a plague?" Niko wondered aloud. The Tevinter Imperium was largely a mystery to Niko and most other elves here, but one thing he did know was that his friend Alarith had been a slave there. And from Alarith, he'd learned that not only was slavery legal in Tevinter, it was common and expected. That was enough to make Niko wary of the country and humans from there.

"They say the sickness spreading here is a Blight disease that they saw in the imperium ages ago. Magic can't just make it go away, but it can keep you from getting it, if you're healthy," Shianni explained, narrow eyes full of suspicion. "So every day new people line up to be magicked. And every day, the Tevinters pull someone out of the line and take them to quarantine."

Niko gave her a nod. "All right, I'm going to have a look inside this hospice."

At his self-confident words, she smiled, her shoulders relaxing as if a heavy burden had been lifted from them. "I knew you'd do something, Cousin! Maker watch over you."

"Is there any other way into the hospice?" he asked her, his eyes subtly grazing the north building.

"I'd try the side entrance in the alley," she advised. "There's only one guard, and no crowd watching."

Niko smirked a little. Of course she had scouted the building, maybe even tried to make a plan to break in herself. He was proud of her, though still glad she hadn't attempted to do it. "I'll be back," he told her, moving past with his group tagging right along.

She turned to watch him go. "Just be careful."

He glanced back over his shoulder, giving her a wink.

"Your cousin seems…" Alistair squinted, as if the word he searched for was in front of him somewhere. "…Spirited."

"Much like you," Wynne added with a chuckle, side-glancing at Niko.

He smiled fondly. "She is."

"Wasn't she the one that we saw before?" Alistair asked hesitantly. "When we were looking for Andraste's ashes?"

He nodded. "That was her."

There was a short silence among them before Zevran spoke up.

"She looks nothing like you, to be honest… Except for the ears."

All four of them gave a curt laugh.

"I look more like my mother," Niko explained, smiling.

They came upon a side door guarded by the cleanest, most polished, and nicely-armored elf Niko had ever seen.

"No, you can't go inside 'just for a moment', so you might as well walk right back around to the front doors," he told them, almost bored. Or maybe indifferent. "You shouldn't be out on the streets now anyway, what with the plague."

Yes it was indifference than defined him, Niko thought. He had to be to turn a blind eye to what was going on here. Because it was nothing good; the Warden needed no evidence to understand that.

He knew he could probably bribe this guy to walk away, but that would risk him tipping off the mages out front. Besides… he couldn't help noticing how this alley led right into the apartments behind the hospice…

"All right, we'll go," he told the elven guard, passing him by.

"You do that."

He didn't seem to care enough to watch where the party was headed, so Niko led them right to the apartment door. The first hallway it opened up into was narrow, not even wide enough for more than two of them to pass through at once. Like most structures in the alienage, this one was in ill shape with rough wooden beams and cracked walls. It smelled too; like rubbish and unwashed bodies.

It was oddly quiet for a building that was supposed to be housing more elves than it should. Though from the first door on the right, Niko could hear heavy coughing inside from one of the tenants. They turned the corner into an even narrower hall, spotting someone at the end, looting through what looked to be a pile of garbage.

As they approached, the startled man whipped around with panic in his eyes. "Who's there?" He asked, his voice raw and strained with fright. "Stay away!"

"Calm down," Niko told him. "Where are all the people who lived in this building?"

"I don't know," he murmured, leaning nervously away from them. "You gotta ask someone else."

"Would some coin change your mind?" Niko offered as he reached into his coin-purse. He'd already given a sovereign to a poor elf posing as a wounded veteran near his father's house. No one in the group had objected, and they weren't objecting now either.

"All right…" The man wiped a grimy hand on his already soiled shirt and accepted a few silvers from Niko. Though even the gift of so much coin didn't release the dark grip of fear in his tone. "I saw them take everyone. Took them right out of their beds. Dragged them down the hallways. Maker," he gasped, tears springing from bloodshot eyes. "The little ones crying!"

Stunned silence fell over his group, and Niko gulped down a feeling of dread thick in his throat. "Have you seen my father? Cyrion. He's an older man."

The frightened elf nodded. "They took him through here yesterday. Looked like a dead man."

_No…_

Anger and distress clouded Niko's mind. His fist clenching, he tried to get a hold of himself but his words still came out shaky. "What about Valendrian?"

"I saw him," the man told him solemnly. "They marched him through the hall with a bunch of others. All tied together like pack mules."

"What else have you seen?"

"Every few days they come back. It's like a parade, a silent one. Men and women and children…"

Niko felt like he'd been stabbed in the gut, his insides rotted with disgust and horror. It made him sick.

People he'd known his whole life… men he'd worked beside… children he'd held as babies and told tales to… Valendrian and his father… they all walked with anguished steps through his mind's eye... A vision of his people, the vibrancy bled from them, chained and paraded into the darkness of stolen freedom…

He didn't mean to frighten the man further with his next question, but he couldn't quell his urgency. "Where did they take everyone??"

"Through the landlord's old office," he squeaked. "They go in there, they never come back." He looked around frantically. "You have to go. They'll be back soon. They'll find out I talked, and they'll take me too!" Shaking with fear, he cowered into the corner, pleading, "Please, just go!"

With a stride of determination, Niko turned swiftly back around to take his party through the next hallway. He didn't know where the landlord's office was exactly, but he knew it was on the main floor.

The first door he tried took them into an apartment.

Someone's home.

It was empty, yet it felt like he was intruding. As if ghosts remained, he felt a presence here. Perhaps because the table was set, the chairs arranged for a family that never made it to dinner. In the middle of the room, some kind of wooden furnishing laid in broken pieces.

Niko stepped further into the room, a heaviness settling on him as eerie as the silence that surrounded him. Spotting something near the bed tucked into a corner of the room, the Warden barely noticed his companions following him into the apartment. Kneeling down to see the object, it was so tarnished he couldn't be sure what it was until he picked it up.

A doll.

Some flimsy thing without enough stuffing. A child's hand-stitched toy, patched many times over and full of stains. Each blemish surely held a memory. Grass stains, dirt marks, food spills… the marks of a child's companion, loved and cherished.

The child probably dropped it in all the chaos.

Feeling like he'd had the wind knocked out of him, it was a good thing Niko was already on his knees. He shut his eyes, squeezing the abandoned doll tight in his gloved hand.

As miserable as life in the Alienage seemed to everyone, the one thing you could always count on seeing was children running around outside, smiling without a care, chasing each other and climbing trees and toting their handmade toys around. Because children didn't really worry about how poor they were or if a human was going to decide to hurt or kill them the next day. Because they had toys and sunshine and friends and space to run. That's what they were supposed to have.

This child won't have that freedom anymore.

Facing away from his friends, Niko's eyes brimmed with silent tears. He was unable to get to his feet, crippled by the thought of a smiling, happy child soon ripped, crying, from her bed in the middle of the night.

Someone was suddenly kneeling down beside him, an arm wrapping securely around his shoulder.

"Dry your eyes, my dear," Zevran whispered softly, discreetly placing a handkerchief in Niko's hand. There was steel in the assassin's eyes as Niko lifted a woeful gaze at him. "We will get them."

While Zevran stood, the Warden quickly dabbed at the tears in his eyes. He slipped the handkerchief into one of his pockets when he stood again. Wynne and Alistair were kind enough not to say anything as Niko led the way out of the room.

They found signs of struggle in other rooms; boot prints and blood stains on splintered, uneven floor boards and a broken vase with hair and dried blood stuck on the sharp edges.

In the last hallway on this floor, there were two remaining doors to check; one on the right side and one that looked like an exit door. There was definitely movement and whispers coming from the one on the right.

Shoving the door open, they were met with the same elven guard from the side entrance.

"A nosy one, aren't you?" The elf sneered. "We'll fix that."

Right as Niko aimed a fierce swipe at him, he sounded the alarm and five more men came in. He wasn't able to fully escape Niko's dagger though; the blade sliced off half his ear.

The elf screamed, blood gushing from the side of his head and dripping onto the roughhewn floors. The trauma seemed to be all that was needed to disarm him. Niko's sword found an easy path right through the elven guard's neck, blood gushing forth like a waterfall over his shining, immaculate armor.

Niko turned to aid his party, who were engaged with the five others. The ice blasts from Wynne's staff slowed them down. And in these closed quarters, it was a quick battle.

With bleeding bodies littering the floor, Niko took a look around. There were bunk beds on the left side of the room, along with two bedrolls and a storage chest. A wash basin, a fire place, some more bedding, and a few sacks were on the other side of the room. A barrel full of weapons sat near the door. Right in the middle of the room was a table holding a lit candle and some papers.

While Niko checked the notes sitting on the table, the others looted the bodies for coin.

"This may be a headquarters of some type?" Alistair suggested, yanking a coin-purse off of one of the corpses.

"Possibly," Niko murmured, his eyes narrowed on the note he held in his hand. " _Bring eight males and six females for the next shipment_ ," he read aloud.

Wynne and Alistair glanced over to him.

"Slave trade," Wynne whispered gravely, her brow creasing with anger and disgust.

"I suspected," Niko huffed, folding the note up and tucking it into a pocket. He grabbed a key from the table, too, before turning to leave.

The other door did lead them back outside; a little area behind and in between other buildings where a sewage pipe spilled dirty water into a big puddle on the ground.

Their presence did not go unnoticed, however. They were approached by a few men, all bearing the same yellow and red symbol on their shields.

"What's this?" One of the men turned to them in confusion. "Another shipment already? We weren't- Wait…" His eyes narrowed. "You're no Tevinter. Who are you supposed to be?"

Eyes piercing sharply on them, the Warden reached for his blades. He knew he looked dangerous. "I'm looking for some missing elves."

"Quick, get them! Hurry!" The man gasped, stepping back as he pulled his own sword out. He raised his shield just in time to block Niko's heavy sword and dagger both coming down on him. The hit staggered him, knocking him slightly off balance, but he recovered in time to block another swipe. The men behind him came at Niko's party with their swords drawn.

Zevran easily side-stepped one man, tripping him, then drove daggers down into his back.

One down.

-o-o-o-

It seemed to be one battle after another once they were in the next building; a warehouse. It was perfect for the operation they had going here. The Alienage was right next to the docks, so they would be able to move "shipments" and get them out to Tevinter without being noticed.

They quickly realized that it wasn't just Tevinters involved in this though.

" _Believe it or not, we have been given dispensation to do our business here,"_ one of the slavers had told them.

She'd been yet another elf involved in selling her own kind for profit. It only reinforced the ideas Niko's mother had instilled in him; there are all kinds of humans, good ones and bad. Just as there are all kinds of elves.

It was their actions that defined them.

The deeper they went into the warehouse, the more prepared the people inside were for battle. The lower area held a tripwire at the bottom of the stairs, which Niko disabled, but only by putting himself in the line of fire from the men on the other side first.

The room after that had to be the main sleeping quarters for all these slavers. It was filled with bunk beds – and also a small army.

When they were surrounded by fallen enemies, the party took a moment to catch their breath.

"I'm pretty sure we didn't miss any rooms," Alistair said, leaning against one of the rickety bunks.

"Good," Niko responded tersely, pacing the room. "Not one slaver leaves here alive."

There was no arguing that, not even if any of them were inclined to.

There were two doors, one on each end of the long room. When they were ready, Niko chose the one on the left, not knowing that they actually led to the same room. It brought them out onto the upper tier of a large room.

Like most warehouses, it was filled with barrels and crates. Unlike most warehouses, it was also filled with cages full of elves.

Looking down to the lower floor, Niko's hard eyes met a curious looking man, bald and bearded, standing in the middle of the room, dressed in red and orange robes with feather pauldrons.

He took notice of their entrance, but seemed unafraid. "I am Caladrius," he greeted with fake cordiality. "And you, I assume, must be the Grey Warden I've heard so much about."

"I don't care who you are," Niko said, keeping his eyes on Caladrius. "You're going to die."

"Are you sure you wish to commit such a rash action, Grey Warden?" the Tevinter mage asked calmly, like he had something on him. "Look around you."

His small squadron of men drew their weapons and surrounded Caladrius like a defensive wall on all sides, their tactical gazes set on Niko and his companions.

Caladrius smiled, a twisted show of malevolence and pride. "Surely we can reach some kind of… compromise?"

Niko wasn't intimidated. "That's not going to happen."

"Pity," Caladrius sighed. "It looks as if we shall have to settle this the hard way, then. My apologies."

There was only one set of stairs leading down onto Caladrius's level and two of his men were already running up, crossbows ready.

Leading a charge against them, Niko knocked a bolt away with his dagger and drove his longsword into the first man's throat. The heavy bash of Alistair shield hurled the second man back down the steps. His longsword finished the job.

Caladrius looked furious when they reached his level, especially as Niko ducked his men and closed in on him. Alistair and Zevran dealt with Caladrius's men so Niko could focus on the Tevinter mage, while Wynne provided support from a safe distance.

An invisible pulse threw Niko back from the mage, stumbling him, but he pushed against it. He got close, and Caladrius gasped as Niko's sword grazed his shoulder, feathers fluttering away from his pauldrons like a startled bird.

An arcane shield enveloped Caladrius, and Niko's blades glanced off. Raising his staff, the mage shouted, "A blood sacrifice! For power!"

Niko didn't see it happen. But he heard it… tearing and splattering… He didn't know what it was exactly, but it sounded like the watermelon he'd burst open with a mallet last summer; an explosion of juices and chunks. He turned and saw gore splattering the place where a man once stood, a broken crossbow on the ground. Alistair staggered from the spot, stunned and covered in blood.

The moment Niko realized that Caladrius had just annihilated one of his own men for power, he turned just in time to get stuck with a cold spell. Feeling like he'd just been hit with a giant snowball, he did his best to ignore the ice in his veins and swung his sword at Caladrius. The mage dodged the sharp blade, dancing far to the side. A crackle of power surged through his staff when he struck the floor with its end, evoking a rush of telekinetic force around Niko. He yelled out in pain, his weapons clattering to the floor as he was bent backwards from a crushing might.

It was if his body was being pressured on all sides, rendering him unable to move. He was so vulnerable…

But Zevran and Alistair must have been keeping Caladrius and his men at bay. Soon, Niko felt a comforting warmth spread over him, the pain lessening, and he knew it was Wynne aiding him. The crushing prison soon released him, and Niko scanned the field. That was when he really took notice of the cage in the corner of the room, and his eyes landed on his father's for the first time in almost a year.

Cyrion's mouth was parted in shock, his eyes wide. He was skinnier and paler than the last time Niko had seen him. He clung to the bars so he could gaze through, the panic in his eyes louder to Niko than all the clamoring of the other elves stuffed in the cage with him. Even louder than the battle going on all around him too.

A painful chill rattled Niko's spine, and he turned on Caladrius with renewed vigor. Picking up his weapons, he rushed the mage, who hurried a spell of fire to blast at the elven Warden. But Wynne's defensive spells covered Niko, and the fire didn't blaze quite so hot. Caladrius's eyes widened as Niko sprinted through the flames with his sword raised high. He tried to step away from the blow, but the blade slashed a bloody path down his torso.

In pain and desperation, Caladrius lifted his staff once more, the body of his last henchman exploding in a fountain of gore. Zevran ducked, managing to avoid the entrails that flew over his head but not the spray of blood. The sacrifice healed Caladrius's wound, the tarnished gash in his robe the only remaining sign that he'd ever been harmed.

It was a terrible tactical move though. No sooner did he raise his staff for a devastating spell did they all close in on him, blades sharp and shining.

"Enough! Enough!" He shouted, dropping to one knee in submission. To his great relief, they stopped their charge. The elven Grey Warden was the only one to approach him, slowly, with his blades hanging from his hands at his sides. "It… seems your reputation is an accurate one," Caladrius stammered, sweat beading his brow as he looked up at Niko. "I surrender."

"Surrender?" Niko glared down at him, his lip curling in a nasty snarl as he leaned in closer. "I don't think so."

"Wait! Hear me out, kind ser!" the mage pleaded. "Were I to… use the life force of the remaining slaves here, I could… augment your physical health a great deal!" The Warden's face suddenly went blank and Caladrius's heart hammered in his chest with hope. "Allow me to leave this place alive and I would be more than happy to do this little service for you."

Niko's eyes remained unblinking, but Caladrius saw the twitching clench in the elf's jaw and realized the offer hadn't appealed to him like he had hoped. He was saved from Niko's sudden wrath only by the indignation of the wizened mage beside him.

"'Little service'? He is talking of blood magic. Surely you-"

"No," Niko cut her off, his glare never leaving Caladrius "I'd never. I would  _never_  consider it."

"Most wise," Wynne murmured.

Caladrius frowned. "Then… I don't suppose you would consider just letting me go?"

It wasn't the blood magic. Yeah, blowing up your own allies for the sake of power was nuts, but it was completely beside the point. His father was in that cage over there. Those were his family and neighbors. Not only that, but there were those he had been too late to save…  _Again_.

He would avenge them. It was all he could do.

"No," he told Caladrius, taking a step back. "I don't suppose I would."

"Ah. Well," the mage said darkly, slowly getting to his feet. "That is a shame, isn't it?"

On his feet, he sent a powerful blast rippling through the party.

Niko slammed into a wall, his head swimming as he looked around for Alistair and Wynne. They were dizzied too, but he pointed them towards the cage full of elves. "Protect them!"

They obeyed, backing towards the cage to do what they could to ward off Caladrius's blood magic. Wynne began building a large arcane shield around the elves while Alistair put his Templar skills to use to ward off enemy magic. If Caladrius wanted a blood sacrifice, he'd have to bleed for it himself.

Niko and Zevran looked to each other, giving encouraging nods. They could do this, the two of them.

As with Keeper Zathrian, Caladrius's blood-fueled spells tried to eat away at Niko and Zevran from the inside out. Their hearts pounded as blood rushed through their veins with too much heat. He was trying to control them, to use their blood for his magic, but he was met with too much resistance. There was fear in Caladrius's eyes as he ran from the elves' blades. Zevran cut him off, grinning with a smatter of blood across his face as he raised both sword and dagger for an assault. Caladrius turned tail from the menacing assassin and ran…

Right into Niko's blade.

Blood spilled from the slaver's mouth with a gurgled cry, and he fell to the floor as the Warden withdrew his sword. As satisfying as the kill had felt, Niko knew it was a bittersweet victory as he looked down at Caladrius's corpse and the blood pooling beneath him. There was nothing to celebrate here. They'd killed all the slavers they could and saved many, but that wouldn't bring back the elves who were already taken. They were well on their way to Tevinter now, out of his reach.

Niko turned to see that the wall of magic Wynne had built around the elves was slowly dissipating now that the fight was over. Beyond the scattering blue wave of protective magic stood Niko's father, staring through the cage at his son. He didn't look as bad as Niko had anticipated. Tired, pale, and thinner than before, yes, but he still looked like Cyrion. He would be okay…

Alistair unlocked the cage and the elves inside scrambled to get out. One woman clutching a scared child had tears streaming down her face as she squeaked out a "thank you" and limped away.

"Son, is it really you?"

That familiar, gentle voice melted the iron Niko had felt gripping his heart in a vice. Tears sprang to the corners of his eyes. His father was alive. His family was okay.

"When they said all the Grey Wardens died at Ostagar, I prayed they were wrong." Cyrion took a step forward, has hands clasping Niko's arms. His touch was hesitant at first, afraid he was facing an apparition or a dream, but then he gripped his son tight, knowing it was truly him. "Are you alright? What are you doing here?"

"I couldn't let them hurt my family."

A tender smile warmed Cyrion's face. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. You're so much like your mother."

Niko smiled too, but a nagging fear in the pit of his gut ruined the moment. "Where's Valendrian?" he asked, though he was afraid he already knew the answer.

"They took him on the ships yesterday," Cyrion explained, his whole body sagging with the weight of that knowledge on his shoulders. "He's probably halfway to Tevinter by now."

They both knew that the loss of their Hahren would be a difficult wound to recover from. All this chaos, death, sickness, and violence… and now the Alienage would flounder without Valendrian's gentle guidance.

Niko exhaled sharply, as if he'd been punched. That man was his teacher, his friend, his family, and Niko wasn't ready to accept such a fate for him. There was nothing he could do about it at the moment though. "Are you all right?" He asked his father.

Cyrion sighed. He sounded tired. "I could be worse. I could be on an auction block in Minrathous right now."

Wincing at the thought, Niko turned and, for the first time, got a good look at the war-torn room. Corpses with eyes glazed over littered the blood-stained floors while gore painted the walls. He didn't want his father in this place.

"You'd better get away from here, father," Niko told him. "We can talk later, okay?"

"Come to the house," Cyrion told him first. "There's something I should give you…"

Niko blinked at him, wanting to ask what it was, but he let him go, only nodding in assurance that he would come. Nothing could possibly keep him from going home.

Once Cyrion was gone, Niko sighed heavily, slumping against the wall.

"Are you alright?" Wynne asked him with concern.

He opened his mouth to answer 'yes', but paused when he saw all of his companions looking at him with the same worried expressions.

"I'm…. I'm just glad my father is alive." Unsure if that answer was good enough, Niko stood again, straightening himself. "Come on. Let's go."

He led the way out, back out into the warmth of spring, the midday sun high in the sky above the walls of the Alienage. A crowd was still gathered in the Square and people were running back and forth from houses. The news of what had really been going on was spreading…

Niko turned to see that Shianni was waiting outside the "hospice" building still. She was smiling as he approached her alone, equal parts relief and pride on her face.

"Cousin, you're amazing," she said, and then her eyes narrowed teasingly at him. "Which I shouldn't tell you to your face, because it'll go to your head. But it's true. Are you sticking around for a while?" She asked, going on before Niko could even respond. "You're staying for dinner aren't you? You'd better. I'll weasel a bottle of wine from Alarith and we can catch up."

Nearly thrown by her cheerfulness following all this horror, Niko gave a breathless laugh. "How did I know you'd make this an excuse to get drunk?"

She laughed, open mouthed and eyes scrunched at the corners. It was genuine and happy, and Niko was so glad to see it. "Who needs an excuse? I know, I know. You still have work to do. Blight to end and all that. But when this is all over, we  _are_  going to get  _very_  drunk to celebrate. Promise?"

Niko smiled. He wanted that. He wanted that to happen more than anything. "I promise."

"I'll hold you to that, Cousin."

They stopped into Alarith's store next. Niko had a lot of extra supplies from that warehouse, and he was eager at the chance to give it to one of his own. They could use it here more than anyone outside could.

"I'm gonna go in alone," Niko said once they reached his father's house. "I promise I won't be long."

"Take your time," Alistair said with a nod.

Smiling gratefully at them, Niko pushed the door open. It was so strange to be here again. Of course the first thing he did when he got to the Alienage was come back here. But with Soris being alone in the quiet house, acting almost like a ghost of his former self, it had been oddly disturbing. It was still strange now, to be here, but it was so much better with his father standing there in the middle of the front room. Cyrion smiled proudly when Niko came in, even more wrinkles forming around his eyes.

"Let me get a look at you," his father said, pulling him closer. His hands grasped Niko's shoulders, turning him slightly to see him from different angles. "Maker, don't they feed you Wardens? You're all skin and bones!"

Niko couldn't help but grin. Despite the fact that they didn't eat a lot while travelling the country, he was sure he was still bigger than when he'd left the Alienage months ago. He was definitely more muscular. Swinging a sword around every day did that to a person. "Everything where you left it?" He asked, glancing around the humble home.

"I expected looters, but I'm not missing much. Here…" Cyrion turned to the bedroom where he had a rather flat locker pulled out and set on the mattress. Niko had never seen it before. "This is for you," he said, lifting a long, curved dagger out of the box.

The Fang of Fen'Harel.

Niko hadn't seen it in years. His father had packed it away right after Adaia was killed. It had been a point of contention between the grieving father and son for a time. The dagger was a family heirloom, passed on to Adaia from her father when he'd taught her to fight. Since she'd passed her training on to Niko, he believed the blade should be passed to him as well. But Cyrion refused to give it to him or even tell him where it was hidden. In fact, Niko had never seen him stand his ground on a decision so adamantly before. He wanted no more fighting after Adaia's death. Niko had been such an angry teen at the time. He'd wanted his mother's dagger and he'd wanted to avenge her. But Cyrion did not want to lose his son too. Once Niko had realized that, he'd let it go. His father was more important to him than vengeance or Fang.

But here it was, his mother's blade.

"I should have given it to you before you left, but with all the trouble I didn't get the chance," Cyrion admitted. "It belonged to your mother and I think you should have it now." He watched his son gently lift the dagger out of the chest, bright eyes travelling the sharp blade. "I know you'll do great things. You already do."

Niko gaze flickered to his father. He set the dagger down and hugged him. "Thank you, father."

Cyrion's eyes closed against the threat of tears, wrapping his boy in his arms. "I'm so glad you're all right, son."

He was unable to linger much longer, but Niko promised himself he would make it back here soon.

He led his companions out of the Alienage, back over the bridge and through the gates. He'd been nervous and a little embarrassed when they came in. The guard at the gate had said the worst of the carnage in the Alienage – the "festering sore full of parasites" – had been cleaned up. Considering what it had looked like, with charred buildings and dead animals and trash clogging up the alleys, Niko didn't want to know what it had looked like before he got there. Now, as they left, he was feeling relieved. He hoped the others wouldn't think he came from some kind of shithole, but now he didn't care. The resiliency of his people was stunning, and he was just glad his father and cousins were still alive.

"Do you want to talk?" Alistair asked once they got to Eamon's estate. Wynne and Zevran had retreated to their own tasks so the Wardens could go talk to the Arl alone.

Niko looked up at him as they walked along, seeing the openness in his friend's eyes. "Maybe. But I don't know what to say."

"Well what are you thinking?"

"…I'm thinking about Valendrian. He must be scared… I'm not sure if you know how important a Hahren is to an Alienage. The Elder guides everyone, cares for everyone. He's the one that taught me to read, the one that watched over me when I was sick and my father had to be at work… I wish I could help him."

"I'm sorry," Alistair said, his face twisting in a frown. "I wish we could help him, too."

"Ah, there you are!"

They both looked up, realizing they had reached the Arl's study.

"I was about to send out a search party," Eamon told them. "I've been hearing of a great commotion in the alienage. What exactly happened there?"

Niko turned to grab a note out of a side pocket of his pack. "Loghain was involved with Tevinter slavers. I have proof," he said, handing the paper over.

Arl Eamon's eyes narrowed on the paper, reading with a hardened gaze for a moment before he set the paper on his desk. "Maker forgive me. I should be appalled that such a thing could exist here, but I'm overjoyed you can implicate Loghain."

Niko shifted, feeling a little uncomfortable with that sentiment, but he understood. Defeating Loghain was on the forefront of the arl's mind, not a bunch of elves…

"We must end the civil war quickly," Eamon went on pointedly. "What the Blight does not corrupt in this land, politics surely will."

-o-o-o-

"Are you sure you're alright, Uncle?"

Cyrion glanced up from where he sat at the table to see Soris gazing at him with worry in his wide eyes. He gave the lad a small smile, the concern his nephew had for him alone lending him some warmth. He and Shianni both had been so generous with their time and love these last few months. It hadn't made the loss of his son easier exactly, but he had appreciated their company and their help.

And now he knew that his son was not dead after all. The Maker had answered his prayers.

Still, he was so tired and sore. So many hours he'd been crammed in a cage with other elves, fearing their own fates as well as mourning the loss of Valendrian. A friend and leader to them all, and they'd seen him ripped away before their very eyes. Last night he'd spent huddled with his frightened neighbors in the cramped cage, children weeping quietly on their mother's shoulders. All the while the slavers paced about, talking shipment and pricing… like they were nothing more than cargo…

The smile had fallen from his face, and Soris still stared at him, wanting to do something.

"I'm fine, my boy," Cyrion assured him. "Just thinking is all. How is supper coming?"

"The stew is almost ready, Uncle. Shianni better get back here soon."

Speak of the devil… The front door opened, Shianni nudging her way in with a beautiful bouquet of flowers bigger than her head.

Her uncle and cousin stared at her in the doorway, and she smirked cheekily back at them. "Look who I ran into in the market."

Niko followed in after her as she went to get a vase. He carried a few sacks in his hands. Cyrion stood from the table immediately and Soris stopped stirring his pot of food.

"Son, what are you doing here? I thought you'd be busy."

"They can manage without me for a few hours," Niko promised, breaking into a wide grin as his father came over and urged him to come in. "I brought some groceries."

"You shouldn't have done that," Cyrion told him, though his appreciation was apparent. "You should keep your money. You've earned it, son."

"I have plenty to spare for my family," Niko insisted, taking the food he'd bought straight to the larder.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and Niko turned to see Soris giving him a smile.

Niko smiled back at him. "So what's for dinner?" He asked.

"My vegetable stew," Soris answered him proudly, getting bowls and cutlery out.

"I made salad," Shianni piped in, setting the bowl of leafy greens on the table next to the bouquet of delicate white and pink flowers.

Niko sighed happily, taking in the scent of cooked vegetable stew over the fire. "It's been so long since I had that."

"Well," Soris smiled a little and glanced away as he finished setting the table. "I'm sure it's not quite as good as what they are serving you in the Arl's estate."

"Lots of fancy wine and cheese," Shianni teased with an exaggeratedly posh accent.

"It is pretty good," Niko admitted, going to wash his hands in the basin. "But anything is better than what we were eating on the road. You should see  _Alistair's_  stew. Ugh…"

"Alistair," Shianni repeated thoughtfully as she came over to wash up too. "Was he that big, handsome guy that was here with you?"

Niko smirked at her, raising an eyebrow. "Handsome?"

"For a  _human_ ," she added, smirking right back at him and flicking water at his face.

They all chuckled, and Cyrion smiled warmly as he took in this scene. Shianni and Niko continued to chat and tease each other as they came over to sit down, while Soris filled their bowls with his stew and soon joined in on the banter. For a moment, he could pretend the whole nightmare had never even happened…

"Let us pray before we eat, shall we?" Cyrion suggested once everyone had washed up and was sitting down.

The three of them nodded, bowing their heads respectfully.

Cyrion closed his eyes. "We thank the Maker for this food that we are blessed to have on our table here this evening... We are thankful for our health and the safety of our home... We are thankful for the return of my son. May he have the courage and strength and wisdom to do what he must," Cyrion's voice wavered as he went on. "We pray for the Alienage, that our people find hope in these dark times. And we pray for those who were taken from us, and for the friends and family who mourn them… Amen."

All four were quiet at first as they ate their stew and piled vegetables on their plate, eating in silence. Niko couldn't help but think of Valendrian again, but as his eyes landed on Soris he remembered that Valora was probably on that shipment to Tevinter too. He didn't know what had happened between Soris and Valora after he'd left with Duncan. Soris said he was going to settle down with her. Niko wanted to know if they'd ended up marrying after all, but he couldn't bring himself to ask. He was glad Nesiara had been able to leave before the purge hit so she could return to her family. He hoped she made it to Highever. All the darkspawn pouring into the lands hadn't been easy on travelers. It was probably why they were still waiting for some of the Banns to get to Denerim for the Landsmeet.

"So tell us about your adventures," Shianni suddenly insisted, looking at Niko from across the table with inquisitive eyes.

His father and Soris also looked to him now, and Niko smiled. He set down his fork and took a drink of water, smiling. "I don't know where to begin."

"Well what's the craziest thing you've seen?" Soris prompted, also smiling a little.

"A talking tree."

"What?"

Niko smirked at their incredulity. A dozen things had flashed through his mind, all of them crazy, but also rather terrifying. He didn't want to scare them with talk of centuries-old blood mages, and werewolves, and broodmothers. Instead he found himself regaling them about his descent into Orzammar, and his trek up a mountain to find Andraste's ashes, where he also slayed a dragon.

"A dragon?" Shianni beamed. "I can't believe it! I mean… I can, but. Wow…" She shook her head. "It's just like you hear in the stories!"

"I though dragons were extinct," Soris chimed in.

"There was a high dragon seen just before the end of the last age," Cyrion told him. "It's why the current age was named the Dragon Age in the first place. There may be more than we think."

"Maybe it was the same dragon," Niko half-joked before he bit into a piece of asparagus.

"Could have been," Cyrion responded seriously. "They said it went on a rampage in the Frostbacks."

"Hm…"

Cyrion went quiet as his son told them more about the encounter. He could almost picture it as Niko told the tale; his son facing off against a dragon that stood the size of a house, with fanged teeth, each one almost as long as Niko was tall, and skin-searing fire blasting from its lungs…

He could even believe it was true after that scene back in the warehouse. Niko had fought as well as any soldier. And Cyrion was so proud of him… but it was strange to him too. Niko had always been brave, and strong, and good with a blade. His mother had taught him to be. But the viciousness he'd seen Niko fight with in that warehouse was something he'd never forget, the way he chased down his target even through burning flames. No father is prepared to see his son cut a man down like that. And Niko had done it with practiced ease, no hesitation or remorse.

It was a part of Niko Cyrion had never wanted to see. Not that he wasn't proud. He was so very proud. But he'd always imagined something different for his son, something safer; a home in the alienage, a modest job, a wife and children. It wasn't glamorous, but it was safer than the life he had now. And he would have been home, where he belonged.

But… maybe this was never where he'd belonged after all.

Cyrion pondered that, watching Niko's face light up as he spoke of his travelling companions.

"And then Oghren said,  _'_ _You know, if you drank more wine, you would whine much less_ _!'_ "

Soris and Shianni burst into laughter at Niko's impression of the dwarf's gruff voice, and Cyrion couldn't help but smile as well. It had been a while since the house was filled with such palpable joy.

"I can't believe all these things you've seen, Cousin," Shianni gushed. "I didn't think ghosts were real…"

"You'd be surprised how many ghosts I've seen," Niko told her.

"I've seen a ghost," Soris suddenly spoke up, and they all turned to him. He glanced around, surprised by the sudden attention and lowered his gaze down to his cup of water. "Just one, though."

"You never told me that," Shianni said. "When did you see it?"

"Well… it was when I went to go help clean up the orphanage."

The mention of it brought a dreadful silence over the table.

"What happened to the orphanage?" Niko asked quietly.

"It was raided in the purge," Shianni told him, her voice small and sad as she glared at nothing in particular.

Niko's face suddenly drained of color. Cyrion wasn't quite sure if the boy looked more like he was going to be sick or like he might flip the table over in outrage. But he did neither of those things and instead sat silently, frozen in place.

"I went with a few others," Soris went on once he felt like it was okay to tell this story. "A couple of us who had grown up there. We felt like it should be us," he said, almost to himself. "But when we got there… it felt like we walked into the Void itself. It felt so dark and treacherous. And then I saw a ghost across the room, past some wreckage… It looked like a child."

"Did it speak?" Niko asked hesitantly.

"No," Soris said. "It looked at me and ran off. Then we heard barking and got out of there quick. None of the humans who came in to clean things up would go in there either. It's too eerie."

Niko nodded, trying not to look too hard at the stricken look on his cousin's face. "I'll see if I can check it out tomorrow."

"Are you sure about that?" Cyrion asked.

"Yeah," Niko assured, trying to keep his tone light. He'd seen plenty of ghosts and such by now. The fact that this was a place he'd known as part of his home though… He didn't want to think about that.

"You might want to talk to that Templar that's been hanging around," Shianni suggested. "They say he's been trying to investigate something creepy going on in the alienage." She stabbed a piece of tomato and plopped it in her mouth. "I thought it was a load of crap, but maybe there is something to it after all."

"Alright."

Soris smiled a little. "Thank you, Cousin. They deserve a proper burial, too. If only we could go in there."


	22. Rogue Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A side trip to Soldier's Peak with Zevran isn't exactly the pick-me-up it was intended to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update took me waaay longer than I expected. Writing this chapter was like pulling teeth, but I hope it turned out well. It's not the most exciting chapter but it is important I think, especially if you are invested in the romance. Up next is the Landsmeet! :-]
> 
> Just want to note that I based the whole thing about the handkerchief custom on stuff I read about a tradition in Portugal.
> 
> The title is from a song on the Dragon Age 2 soundtrack.
> 
> Chapter Rating: T... though this is quite a tame chapter actually.
> 
> Pairing: Zevran/(M)Tabris

The Warden had come back from the Alienage looking rather startled, a paralyzed expression settling permanently on his face throughout the morning. All Zevran had gotten out of him was, “The orphanage was worse than I thought.”

For now, they were taking an early lunch in his room, sitting on one of the cozy couches by the fireplace with a tray of delectable food; a bit of ham, buttered bread, cheese, and goblets full of sweet fruit juice.

“Maybe your Ferelden food is not all so bad,” Zevran commented, nibbling a piece of cheese.

He glanced to Niko, waiting for the obvious punchline, but the Warden only quietly sipped his drink.

“…As long as Alistair is not the one cooking,” Zevran supplied. “No?”

Niko simply gave him a small smile in return.

The Antivan sighed, setting his nearly-empty plate down on a side table. Gideon immediately came over to lap up the scraps, and Zevran stared at the hound. “You are a sly opportunist… Well done.”

Gideon barked happily in response, licking his chops.

Settling back into the plush seat, Zevran suddenly heard and felt something crinkling under him. He sat forward, reached back into the cushion, and pulled out a half-crumbled paper.

“What is this?” he asked.

”Hm? Oh… I got a letter from Levi Dryden. He says Soldier’s Peak is looking good… His family set up shop there,” Niko informed, trying and failing to sound enthused about it. “His brother is an expert smith apparently. Might be useful to check out sometime.”

“Perfect!”

Niko blinked at him, eyeing Zevran’s unexpected grin with confusion. “What?”

“You, my friend, need a distraction,” Zevran told him, quickly getting up from the couch. “Soldier’s Peak is only a few hours of travel from here. Let us go now and we will back by tonight. We can borrow one of the arl’s horses again.”

Niko smirked. “Alistair will kill us if we try to take off again.”

The last time, it had been for a fairly important reason. Some of those assassination jobs for the Crows had been outside of Denerim. So he and Zevran had convinced Arl Eamon to lend them a horse to take them there and back faster. Of course, they didn’t mention the assassinations, just that it was important “Grey Warden business” that might help with the Landsmeet. It was easy to get Eamon on board. Alistair, on the other hand, had been terrified that Niko wouldn’t be back in time for the Landsmeet and that he’d have to handle it alone. The look of exasperation on his face had been priceless. And Niko’s first lesson in horse-riding had been… interesting.

“Come on,” Zevran urged, tugging Niko to his feet. “It will be an adventure.”

“Well… I have been meaning to find a good smith who could do something with that meteor chunk,” Niko admitted.

“See?” Zevran pressed. “Here we have this…  _meteor_ … And it is just waiting to be crafted into a fine weapon worthy enough to be wielded by a Grey Warden!”

“Suppose we could tell the Arl this is Grey Warden business too then,” Niko joked.

“Yes, though I wouldn’t try that on Alistair,” Zevran advised.

“You know,” Niko gave him a sly smile, taking a step closer to him. “There are  _other_  sorts of distractions.”

Zevran’s eyebrows rose as he watched Niko’s gaze trail to the bed, feeling his stomach drop. “Uh no,” he replied awkwardly. “No, I do not think so. We really should leave now so we can be back by tonight.”

The look Niko gave him was not as full of disappointment or surprise as it was the first time Zevran had turned him down. In fact the Warden seemed like he’d possibly expected such a reply and was now silently searching his lover’s face for an explanation.

Zevran had none to give him and hoped Niko would not ask for one. His confusion had only grown worse lately, especially since he’d offered the earring to the Warden. Niko’s refusal of the gift… and his reason for it… had made Zevran question himself and their relationship. Part of him longed to be closer to the Warden, close in a way that Zevran didn’t even know how to achieve. But at the same time, the very thought of it paralyzed him. And he feared what might happen, what these torrid emotions would make him do. Would he burst into tears? Sometimes he felt like he could. Other times he felt light as air, and wiping the smile from his face was impossible. It was all so terribly confusing. And what was worse, he had no idea what to do with these emotions; where to put them or how to think of them. How was he to sort them out on his own, let alone talk about them with someone? How could he bed Niko while he still didn’t have a handle on these unfamiliar thoughts and feelings? That would only intensify them. All he could do now was endure feeling like an impossible fool under the Warden’s scrutiny.

Finally Niko turned away with an abrupt, “Yeah, you’re right.”

Sighing inwardly, Zevran put on a smile as they both grabbed their backpacks. “Good. We have plenty of other things to deal with after all.”

-o-o-o-

With his arms crossed over his chest, Alistair glared at his fellow Grey Warden, who was attempting to climb up on the horse behind Zevran while retaining at least some amount of dignity.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving now,” Alistair griped. “The last of the Banns could be here at any moment. Arl Eamon will call for the Landsmeet! You-… You’re trying to miss it on purpose aren’t you?” Alistair accused, panicking a little. “You’re skipping the Landsmeet!”

Niko grunted as he finally got up on the horse, having found a way to maneuver his leg over with a sword attached to his belt. His face was red from both embarrassment and frustration, and Zevran was smirking to himself as he held the horse’s reigns. He refrained from teasing for now.

“We’ll be back tonight,” Niko promised Alistair. “Don’t worry.”

“If I end up having to face the Banns alone, I swear before the Maker that I’ll-… I’ll… I’ll have Wynne turn you both into cheese… And then I’ll eat you.”

While Niko simply pulled a face at him, Zevran laughed. “You really should work on your threats. You are going to be a king after all, no?”

He cued the horse to start walking, leaving a ruffled Alistair staring after them.

The roads just outside of Denerim were fairly busy, and there were plenty of people who stared at the two well-armed elves riding such a fine horse down the Imperial Highway. They traveled mostly without conversation, the silence filled by birds chirping and a gentle breeze caressing their ears. Niko held onto Zevran’s waist, too caught up in his own thoughts to really enjoy the passing view and the great weather. Despite the approaching Landsmeet and the war with the darkspawn, Niko couldn’t quite get his mind off of other problems. Namely, Zevran.

Big, important human politics and an Archdemon… none of that seemed real to him just yet. Perhaps they were too fantastical, too far out of his element. Maybe that was why he was focused on this issue between him and Zev instead. Their relationship seemed a minor thing to be worried about in a time like this. But maybe the looming war made such things seem more urgent.

Ever since Niko’s capture and imprisonment – and considering all they had been through before that – they both knew any day could be their last. So they tried not to hold anything against each other. Yet things had changed ever since he’d turned down Zevran’s earring. Sometimes they were tense or awkward. It was like they were waiting for something to happen, but they didn't know what. And Zevran was turning down sex for some reason Niko couldn’t fathom. It was very unlike him.

Maybe… maybe Zevran was trying to end things between them. Niko had been trying not to entertain that idea, much as it nagged him. They’d confessed reciprocated feelings back in Howe’s dungeon but… that didn’t mean they wanted the same things. Niko wondered if perhaps Zevran didn’t want to act on those feelings. Perhaps he’d prefer to quell them and move on once this Blight was dealt with. It was a depressing thought for the Warden, whose head hung with the crushing weight of doubt and fear.

Niko was so lost in this dark haze of questions and uncertainty that he didn’t even notice that they were slowing to a trot. He didn’t notice until they were at a full stop and Zevran was climbing down from the horse.

Blinking, Niko looked down at him. “What are you doing?” He glanced around, seeing nothing but pastures and rocky hills. They were on the Coastlands but no longer on the Imperial Highway, which meant they were getting close to their destination.

“Your turn to take the reins, my friend,” Zevran told him with a grin. He climbed back up – with much less difficulty than Niko had – and sat behind the Warden, who was forced to scoot forward to give him room.

“Are you sure?” Niko asked, hesitantly picking up the reins.

“Of course I am sure. I will guide you, and you will guide the horse,” Zevran said, shifting closer.

The horse snorted and shook out its black mane, grazing leisurely while waiting for direction.

“See, even the horse thinks this is a bad idea,” Niko pointed out.

“That is because he remembers how you tried to ride him backwards last time,” Zevran reminded with a smirk, causing Niko to grimace. “But you are sitting correctly this time, see? You have already improved!”

Niko couldn’t see Zevran behind him, but he could just picture the teasing grin on the elf’s face. “Alright, remind me how to do this again.”

“You want the horse to go, so lean forward a little. Give the reins some slack…” Zevran’s chest was suddenly against his back to press him forward, his grasp settling gently under Niko’s elbows. “Yes, now nudge a little with your legs.”

The horse started at a slow pace, giving Niko a small thrill of accomplishment.  _He’d_  done that. For the first time he was guiding a horse.

“Good, and again to quicken the pace,” Zevran instructed.

They were soon at a canter, listening to the three-beat charge of the horse’s hooves. Excitement rushed through Niko as they thundered across land, wind-whipped and grinning. With all the power and energy propelling them, he felt like a bolt of electricity striking out a path.

Zevran smiled, keeping his grasp firmly on Niko’s waist as he watched where they were going. “We should turn a little here,” he noted, hands sliding down to Niko’s thighs to show him where to apply pressure.

The Warden blushed a little, his brain fizzling out for a second as his focus went from the horse to Zevran’s hands on his legs. It was both tantalizing and frustrating when Niko’s most recent thoughts about Zevran had been about whether or not they were headed for an end.

It was only a short time before they saw the opening to the old mining tunnels coming up ahead. They slowed to a trot, moving slowly over the crags in the ground. Zevran’s hands were back to Niko’s waist again, but the blush remained on the Warden’s face. At this slower pace, sitting so close to Zevran, every bump in the road pressed them together with Zevran’s groin rubbing against his back end with each movement. Niko was both disappointed and relieved when they stopped at the mine entrance.

This was where they got off the horse and led it through the maze of tunnels. Already it was easy to see that there had been a lot of traffic through there recently. The Drydens must have brought a lot of supplies. Someone had also chalked some markers on the walls, pointing them in the right direction.

It was still cold up on the peak, cold enough to chill them to the bone as they walked up the incline towards the fortress. But the snow had melted by now, and the Drydens had built up a nice bonfire in the middle of the courtyard. The warmth from the blaze was appreciated as the two elves neared the merchant stalls.  It was odd to see Soldier’s Peak bustling with friendly people, kids running around, and a little mutt scampering about the place, considering it had been overrun with the undead and demons last time they were here. The Peak had felt overwhelmingly haunted then. Now it seemed quite welcoming.

Levi was glad to see Niko again, and quite proud to tell him about the little set up they had going. They talked for a bit about his family and Sophia Dryden. Levi hadn’t told anyone else about what they’d learned while looking through the ghosts of Soldier’s Peak. It was probably better that way. Sophia was a hero and her family could go on believing that without the details of everything that had happened here.

“Any trouble with Avernus?” Niko asked, glancing to the mighty fortress.

“Haven’t heard a peep from him,” Levi replied. “Seems to like keepin’ to himself. But I keep tellin’ the children to stay away from the tower.”

“We’re gonna check in on him before we leave. I’d also like to see if the smith in your family can do something with some rare material I found.”

“Mikhael is a great smith,” Levi assured. “He’s learned from the very best. He’s right over there.”

Levi pointed past the stairs to the fortress where a smithy was set up next to one of the smaller wooden-roofed buildings.

Niko said his thanks and moved along with Zevran. It was colder back here, further from the bonfire, but Mikhael seemed unbothered as he worked with his sleeves rolled up. With a burly build and tough skin, he appeared quite different than most of the other Drydens milling about. He turned to the elves, looking them up and down and seemed to come to a realization before they even said anything.

“You, you’re the Warden?” he asked, eyes marginally wider. “My family owes you. Any weapons I make I will sell you for a discount,” he promised.

“I was actually hoping you might be able to make something out of this,” Niko said as he crouched down to get the heavy rock from his pack. “I found this strange metal in a crater.”

He handed it to Mikhael, a look of awe in the man’s eyes as he took it from the Warden. “Is…? …This is star metal. If you give this to me I will craft for you a thing of legend.”

The expression in the smith’s eyes was one of determination and confidence, touched with imagination. It was similar to how Wade had looked every time Niko brought him some scales to craft with. Zevran and Niko traded eager glances, their shared appreciation for fine weaponry bringing matching smirks to their faces, wondering at what the smith would create. “A starmetal longsword,” Niko said, turning to Mikhael Dryden. “That sounds perfect.”

It would take some time. Mikhael estimated it would be a couple of hours before he was done, which was shockingly optimistic even for a master smith. But then Niko had seen Master Wade work some miracles as well.

In the meantime, they headed into the fortress to go see Avernus. They found more members of the Dryden family working inside, as well as plenty of storage crates. It seemed there had been some repairs done to the main rooms, and probably more than that. The deeper they went into the castle, however, the less people they saw. It was almost as spooky as the last time they were here. Crossing the bridge to Avernus’s tower brought an icy chill, being so high in the air. Someone must have been up there to clean up at some point though, because the bodies of the undead Wardens were gone.

Niko shut the door behind him and Zevran, though the cold chill remained, rattling his spine as he peered around the eerie and familiar room. They both did a cursory glance around, taking in what was different and what was the same. Almost everything seemed to be the way they left it here. What lay in the next room was more in question. Would Avernus still be here? He could have left. Would he be doing inhumane tests even though Niko warned him not to? If he was, how would he answer for it? Could they fight him themselves if they had to?

They were both wondering these things as they waited in the silent foyer. Niko was especially quiet, contemplating to himself. Zevran turned to him expectantly. “Shall we?” he asked, gesturing ahead.

“Zev, I want to talk to him alone.”

Zevran blinked in surprise but otherwise his expression remained neutral. “Are you certain?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” Niko promised and paused when Zevran raised a questioning eyebrow at him. “If I need you, I’ll yell for you.”

Keeping a tight lid on his worry, Zevran nodded and let the Warden pass into Avernus’s torture room alone. The moment the door shut and Niko was out of sight, Zevran’s body straightened with hard tension. His alert eyes remained fixed on the door, straining to hear any noise. The temptation to stick his ear to the door and listen tugged at him like a dog on a leash, but he resisted only because he knew it would be pointless except to make him feel foolish. He wouldn’t be able to make out their conversation. And what was it that Niko had to do or say that required Zevran to wait out here in apprehension like this? Grey Warden secrets, of course.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Zevran told himself that Niko was allowed to have his secrets and that he was, in fact, completely fine with it. He expected it even. Especially when it came to Niko’s duties. It was fine… But then why was there a part of him still stewing over this? Why did he feel a surge of resentment toward this wall between them? The physical one in front of him and the emotional one that had been building between them lately.

His cheeks flared with sudden heat, scuffing the toe of his boot against the floor as he thought about it, and Zevran realized why he was so bothered. His mind was flooded with images he’d been resisting for so long. Niko’s sleepy smile and rumpled hair in the morning. Battles they hadn’t even been in yet. Going on journeys together just the two of them, like the one they were on today. Longer travels too. To other countries even. Staying in tiny apartments… countryside cottages… maybe even lavish palaces…? And then there was Gideon lying happy and content by the fire when he wasn’t pushing his way into their bed...

And most peculiar of all was an image he could not shake; holding Niko’s hand as the two of them walked through the bustling streets of Antiva City, Niko’s eyes wide with wonder as he took in the new and foreign marvels.

Zevran squeezed his eyes shut, all of these visions swarming him at once. How badly he wanted all of these things. What he wanted… was a life with Niko. A future. A promise of more time together at least. He didn’t want secrets between them. He wanted to trust Niko with everything. For the first time, he felt like maybe he could do that. And he wanted Niko to trust him just the same.

It was all ridiculous. It went against everything he ever knew to be true. People were not to be trusted for they would all tragically stab you in the back if you gave them the chance. How could Niko be any different? And what’s more, how could Zevran expect himself to be any different?

_ ‘After Rinna…’ _  Zevran bit his lip, pushing the thought away.

Love, if this is what he was feeling, was far too messy. Too scary. He knew this, yet it nothing to quell his feelings. They remained, strong as ever, and Zevran still did not know what to do with them. Having these feelings and knowing them to be foolish.. it was a bitter pill he had to swallow every day.

-o-o-o-

“You’ll see that I have abided by your stipulations, Warden.”

Niko nodded, walking slowly through the room as Avernus rattled on about how he had little hope of furthering his research anyway. The corpses and skeletons that had once pulled focus in the room were gone now. However, the pits, cages, and bloody pikes still lingered with their memory and the stench of death.

“No torturing or killing people,” Niko said, stopping at the foot of the stairs below Avernus. “That’s the only stipulation. I actually think you could do some good for the Wardens despite these ‘limits’.”

“Do you? Hah! How flattering.” His pale eyes squinted at Niko as he descended the stairs. “And optimistic.  _Too_  optimistic if you think I have anything substantial for you now. Or perhaps you’re just here to check in on me.”

“That,  _and_  I’d like to talk to you about that potion of yours.”

“I noticed that someone drank the vial I left out,” Avernus told him as he moved to sit in a chair. “I assumed it was you.”

“Alistair wouldn’t touch it,” Niko said, taking a nearby seat. “I didn’t really notice a difference at first. But then something happened… In a fight... I was drained and started bleeding pretty badly. Then suddenly it felt like… well… like  _power_.” He leveled his gaze at Avernus. “The blood,  _my_  blood, made me faster and stronger. And then it coated the edges of my blade… like magic,” he said, agitated as he clamped his hands together to keep from fidgeting. “I’m no mage. Is it supposed to be like that?”

“I told you the potion would augment your abilities.”

“You didn’t tell me it would be like… blood magic.”

Avernus scoffed. “Your new powers do not come from demons. And even if they did, you are a Grey Warden. Our Order does not outlaw blood magic.”

Niko quieted, his gaze falling to stare down at his boots. He supposed Avernus had a point. Alistair was wary of blood magic... “Wary” would be an understatement actually. The ex-Templar seemed to find it inexcusable. But maybe blood magic wasn’t inherently evil like most people seemed to think. The Wardens accepted it. But then maybe the Order of Grey Wardens wasn’t the best moral compass. It wasn’t their job to be, after all.

But the fact that his blood was doing creepy magic tricks wasn’t actually the biggest issue he wanted to discuss.

“So all of your research and your magic and everything you put into that potion…” Niko lifted his gaze to see Avernus peering at him with curious eyes, waiting for him to continue. “Is that what made you live so long? Is that how you avoided your Calling?”

“No. The potion alone does not do that for me,” Avernus told him carefully, unsure what Niko wanted to hear. “Do not misread my situation, Warden. My Calling  _will_  come, rest assured. As will yours. If you were hoping to learn differently, then I am afraid I must disappoint you. However,” Avernus went on, rising to his feet and walking to one of his tables full of test tubes and old books. “I cannot say for certain what the potion will do for you. The new power in your blood may even extend the time before your Calling. Or it may shorten it. I cannot precisely predict how you will react to it and how it will react to you.”

“So there’s nothing else you can tell me?” Niko asked, also standing now.

“Not yet,” Avernus answered. “Perhaps if your faith in my abilities proves fruitful, well… we shall see.”

With a nod, Niko headed for the exit. “Thanks, Avernus. I’ll be back… hopefully.” Sighing, he shut the door behind him. At the very least he could now say, with gratitude, that he knew he probably wouldn't end up living 200+ years like Avernus had.

Zevran was waiting in the foyer exactly where Niko had left him. He hardly reacted to Niko’s reemergence, his shoulders rising just barely.

“I trust your meeting went well then,” Zevran said, a little stiffly.

Niko did a double take, his eyes narrowing in scrutiny at his friend. Zevran’s expression was carefully neutral, but there was a hint of severity to him. Niko frowned, sensing that his normally carefree, jesting, smirking Zevran was far away at the moment.

_ ‘Is he mad that I left him out of this? I just didn’t want him to talk about the Calling in front of him…’ _

That was it though. Zevran was angry.

Turning away abruptly, Niko huffed a quiet breath. “Yes. It was fine. Let’s get out of here.”

With a distinct lack of conversation between them, Niko led the way out of the fortress and back to the merchant stalls. He made some discounted purchases at Levi’s stand, but still there was some time left to wait before Mikhael was finished with the sword. He and Zevran sat on the fortress's entrance steps in an awkward silence. They watched people walking around, coming in and out of buildings. They watched the sky, darkening a little with burnt colors as the sun began its slow journey to the horizon.

“We’ll have to ride back to Denerim in the dark,” Niko noted aloud, mostly to himself.

Zevran looked to him, wanting to say something but failing to find words. The tension was heavy between them. Conversation was difficult in these painfully silent moments, like the first time they snapped at each other at Tapster’s Tavern in Orzammar. This felt worse though. It hadn’t come out of nowhere like that first time. This time it felt like events had been leading up to a rift forming between them. Like it was out of their hands. Zevran was beginning to wonder if it had been a mistake dragging the Warden out here. The whole point of this little trip had been to distract Niko from his worries, not to give them both a headache.

_ ‘At least he is getting a fancy new sword out of it,’ _  Zevran reassured himself.

Niko started checking his inventory, just for something to keep himself occupied while he waited. First he reorganized his pack, settling the stuff he just bought from Levi inside, then he checked his pockets, counting tiny vials of poisons and potions that lined his belt. Reaching into one pocket, his eyes narrowed in confusion as he pulled out something he wasn’t expecting; a dark blue handkerchief with a fancy embroidery. The material was soft, and probably expensive. And Niko blushed, immediately remembering where he got it from.

“Here.” He turned to Zevran, blushing more when he saw that the assassin had already been looking at him. “I forgot to give this back to you.”

Zevran glanced down at the handkerchief, blinking at it. The design on it was festive and distinctly Antivan, though Niko probably wouldn’t be able to recognize that detail. He remembered when he bought the handkerchief. It was just after he'd gotten paid for a job on one of the hottest days of the year. In a little shop in Rialto, the beautiful embroidery had caught his eye, and he purchased it on a whim from an old woman with white hair a plump face.

There were some places in Antiva where people – young women especially – would give handkerchiefs to their sweetheart as a symbol of courtship and, often, engagement. They would usually stitch messages of love and devotion into the fabric and hope the token would be accepted and even worn by their beloved.

Remembering this tradition as he looked at the handkerchief in Niko’s hand, offering to return it to him, Zevran couldn’t help but blush as well.

“You keep it,” he told the Warden, meeting his gaze finally. “It is impolite to ask for a handkerchief back once it has been given.”

Niko was about to point out that Zevran wasn’t asking for it back; he was offering it. But Zevran was giving him a hesitant, yet encouraging smile. It made Niko think of the earring he’d turned down, and he knew he couldn’t do that to Zevran again. He quietly wrapped up the handkerchief and stuck it back in his pocket, murmuring his thanks.

Now that his mind was on the earring though, he couldn’t move his thoughts away from it. He cringed every time the memory replayed in his mind’s eye. The look of anger on Zevran’s face that had been born from hurt... Niko hadn’t meant to hurt him. And he felt terrible for it. But at the same time, he felt angry too. Because this rift between them wasn’t just his fault. If Zevran hadn’t brushed the gift off as nothing in the first place, Niko would have gladly accepted. If Zevran could have just said what he felt…

But they did share their feelings. In Howe’s dungeon they had spoken, briefly and quietly, but it had been important. It had been what Niko had needed to hear. But it didn’t fix everything apparently. Because now Zevran was pushing him away and keeping something to himself.

_ ‘And yet he was angry that I decided to speak to Avernus alone,’ _  Niko thought bitterly.

Glancing to Zevran though, he didn’t see anger in the Antivan’s far away gaze. He looked a little lost actually.

“It is done,” Mikhael said from a few feet away at his smithy. Niko and Zevran both glanced up, getting to their feet and going over to him. Mikhael held the sword flat in both hands, displaying the ornate, cerulean pattern and shiny metal. “I call this blade, Starfang. May it serve you well.”

Niko carefully took the sword from him, holding it to test the balance, but it was quite heavy, almost weighing him down. He had to steady himself to keep from dropping it and foolishly looking like he couldn’t handle the weapon. He’d have to get his strength up a bit and do a lot of practice with Starfang if he ever wanted to use it in battle where it clearly belonged. It was a beautiful, fierce sword with a lot of power behind it.

“I must rest after my exertions.” Mikhael said, nodding to him respectfully. “Warden.”

Feeling pretty good about the new sword, which Mikhael hadn’t changed anything for, Niko didn’t even mind that they would have to ride back to the city in the dark. He and Zevran strapped a sheathed Starfang to the horse’s pack and rode on.

This journey was even more silent than the last, however, and held more tension. Though they had an excuse not to speak, as Zevran was focused on guiding the horse on an unlit trail and Niko was keeping a lookout for trouble hiding in the shadows.

They didn’t run into any bandits or darkspawn though. The trip had been relatively short, and they made it back well before midnight. Alistair wouldn’t have them turned into cheese after all.

Together, they unpacked the horse, setting their belongings aside as they guided the steed back into the stables. They were both avoiding each other’s eyes, the silence between them growing to an uncomfortable level. Niko moved with terse focus as he unbuckled and unsaddled the horse, putting things away as they should be.

Zevran took a step back, looking the Warden up and down, watching him look for more things to do; things that would fill the tense silence with pointless actions instead. Anything to put off the awkward silence that was bound to follow them all the way to the Arl’s estate.

The prospects of trudging through more uncomfortable silence with Niko, short as it would be, poured absolute dread into Zevran. He hated this awkwardness, and more than that he hated the look of inner turmoil and loneliness on Niko’s face that he failed miserably at hiding as he busied himself in the stable.

“Is something wrong?” Zev questioned quietly, finally gaining the Warden’s attention as bright eyes met his across the darkness.

Niko’s lips pursed in frustration, glancing down as he stroked the horse’s neck. He met Zevran’s gaze again with a guarded, almost resentful, look. “You seem different now.”

An immediate hush descended on them as Zevran stared back at him, feeling caught. He knew this had been coming. They both knew they needed to talk. More than anything, they needed to talk. Yet he still felt unprepared, still didn’t know quite how he was supposed to explain himself. His gaze fell to the ground where he nudged a clump of dirt. “Hmm. I thought that might be it.” Timidly, he met Niko’s glare, which softened when he saw the apology and hesitation in Zev’s eyes. “Are you certain you wish to talk about this? I really do not know what to say.”

“Are you having second thoughts about us?”

Zevran cringed at the hurt he saw in Niko and the vulnerability in his voice. It broke his heart. He’d never meant to do that. “I… no, this…” He gave a short sigh, wincing as he took a step closer to Niko. “I am acting like a child, I realize. I apologize. Let me try to explain.”

It was time to face this. In the dark of the stables, surrounded only by peaceful creatures, Niko was silent, watching Zevran take a breath to gather himself. He took Niko’s hands in his own, backing out of the stables to stand under the twinkling stars in the night sky. The road leading out of Denerim and the land around it was vast and empty, making Niko feel like he and Zevran were the only people in the world right now.

“An assassin… must learn to forget about sentiment. It is dangerous,” Zevran started, the honesty in his eyes drawing Niko’s full attention. “You take your pleasure where you can, when life is good. To expect anything more would be reckless. I thought it was the same between us. Something to enjoy, a pleasant diversion and little more. And yet…”

He trailed off into confounded silence, and Niko felt Zevran’s thumbs running across his knuckles thoughtfully. Head bowed, he stepped closer to the assassin, drawn in by him and his confession. When Zevran didn’t continue, Niko looked up to find him staring down at their joined hands, frustration and confusion etched in his face.

“Are you saying you’re in love with me?” Niko asked quietly, the words nearly swallowed in the silence that followed.

“I don’t know,” Zevran said, his hands stilling as his eyes rose to meet Niko’s gaze again. “How would you know such a thing?” Tentatively, he let go of Niko’s hands, his arms dropping to his sides in exasperation. “I grew up amongst those who sold the illusion of love, and then I was trained to make my heart cold in favor of the kill. Everything I have been taught says what I feel is wrong. Yet I cannot help it,” he admitted and Niko could hear the fight rising and dying in Zevran in turn. It was just a glimpse of the struggle the assassin had been dealing with over these emotions. And when Niko looked into his eyes, he saw how frustrated it had all made him. “Do you understand me at all?” Zevran asked.

Niko had to confess, “I am no wiser than you in that area, Zevran.” He didn’t know what love was. What he and Jaren had before hadn’t been love. Not even close. But the way he felt about Zevran… That tug on his heart every time their eyes met… the way just being near Zevran made him dizzy… Like the first time he stood atop a mountain in the Frostbacks, these feelings left him just as breathless, and were as intense as the icy wind that had scalded his face. They made him feel so deeply alive. If not love, what could this feeling possibly be?

Zevran’s hand gently took his again, and Niko looked up to see the vulnerability behind his eyes and a tender, hopeful expression that he was sure mirrored his own. “All I need to know is if there might be some future for us, some possibility of… I do not know what.”

Niko’s heart leapt, the mountain-high sensation spreading through his whole body. Visions of a shared life filled his head. Travelling together, sharing a bed and a roof over their heads, facing the world and growing old together. And for the first time… he felt the taint in his veins as a true curse.

Could they have a future? Even if they were both to survive this Blight, Niko’s Calling would come. There was no promise that Avernus’s potion would extend it very long, if at all. Give or take 30 years… that’s what Alistair had told him.

_ Fifty years old. _  If he and Zevran managed to etch out a life together and live that long, he’d have to walk away from it at fifty years old, walk away from Zevran and into the darkness.

Zevran didn’t know that. And now wasn’t the time to tell him either. Right now Zevran looked at him with trepidation, silently praying that what he offered wouldn’t be rejected this time. Not when he was baring his heart.

Breathless again, Niko reached for Zevran’s other hand and met his gaze with adoration in his eyes. “I hope so. That's what I want.”

Zevran’s shoulders dropped in relief, tension released. But immediately he was lifted by something even better, something indescribable that made him jittery. He let go of Niko, reaching eagerly for a pouch on his belt, but then hesitated. “I… still have the earring,” He gingerly reached into the pouch to retrieve it. “I would like to give it to you… as a token of affection,” he said, injecting confidence into the words to prove himself. To prove his feelings and his willingness to voice them. It had been all Niko wanted, he knew that now. “Will you take it?”

The smile that Niko gave him was infectious. And since he had Zevran here being open and honest with his feelings, the Warden decided to try taking it one step further.

“That sounds like a proposal,” he suggested, carefully taking the earring from Zevran’s palm.

A small smirk made its way onto the assassin’s face, reaching his twinkling eyes. His voice dropped to a low note. “Not unless you wish it.”

Niko grinned, drawing closer to him as he folded the earring safely in his hand. “I’ll take it.”

Zevran’s arms wrapped around him and Niko nestled his head into the crook of his neck, simply taking comfort in each other. To be free of the uncertainty that had been forcing its way between them was the most uplifting relief. Now they knew that they both wanted the same things, and were assured that the path ahead was not one they would take alone.

“Then that is enough for me,” Zevran said as they released each other. “I am sorry for acting so strangely. I think I will be better now,” he said, a peaceful smile gracing his face. “Much better.”


	23. The Landsmeet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last Wardens in Ferelden finally face the man who betrayed them and branded them traitors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So so sorry for the atrociously long wait. It's been over a month since I last updated. This is a really long chapter though. Possibly the longest one yet, and that's probably because of all the scripted dialogue. Also, me and my family have been helping to take care of 7 newborn kittens for the past two months and trying to find them homes. Good news, because we actually did find a nice, loving home for each and every one of them, which I really didn't think we'd be able to do. Also we got to keep one! So I no longer have to stress about the little kitties. Hopefully that means I'll be able to write more frequently. Unfortunately I'm still waiting for my PS3 to get fixed. I was using it to follow the game and write my fic as I went along. So it kind of messes me up. It should be fine though.
> 
> Chapter Rating: T
> 
> Pairing: Zevran/(M)Tabris

The next morning, Niko woke up to someone climbing into bed beside him. He felt the bed dip and strong limbs encircling his body, pulling him close in a warm embrace. Eyes still shut, he smiled as Zevran nuzzled the back of his neck.

"Mm. Good morning," Niko murmured. He shifted under the blanket and rolled over to kiss Zevran.

He found the other elf smiling back at him, peace and tenderness in his golden eyes.

"Did you sleep well?" Zevran asked.

"Yes." In fact he couldn't remember sleeping so well before in his life. Here he had a bed fit for a noble and someone he loved to share it with.

Someone he  _loved_. Now that it was out in the open, he and Zevran knew where they stood with each other, knew that they both wanted the same things. And the happiness and security that knowledge gave Niko was immeasurable. Whatever happened next, he would have Zevran by his side, even if it was only for a short time.

Rubbing his legs against Zevran's, Niko noticed he was wearing his loose trews. "Why are you dressed and I'm not?" He asked sleepily. He distinctly remembered both of them being very naked last night.

Zevran chuckled. "Don't worry, I will not be dressed for long."

Niko smirked at the mischief in Zevran's voice. He watched the assassin get out of bed and sat up so he could do the same.

"I went out to find a servant to draw a bath for us," Zevran explained. "We had such a long night, I thought I should let you sleep."

A blush crossed Niko's face as he walked over to the tub sitting in the middle of the room. He dipped his hand in, pleased to find it nice and warm. It was just one more of the perks of staying in an arl's estate. He wished his family could experience little things like this; the gourmet food, hot baths, and plush beds. Even if they had money for nice things though, they wouldn't be welcomed in any of the nice neighborhoods dominated by bigoted humans. Here he was, enjoying these things while his family was a short walk away, living in squalor.

Niko tucked the thoughts away, not for the first time since staying here. As he stepped into the water, he heard Zevran's pants drop to the floor. He forced himself not to turn and look, instead sinking into the tub. The water warmed his skin, soothing his muscles. He scooted forward to leave some room for Zev. The assassin silently stepped in behind him, then pulled Niko back against his chest. They both sighed, shutting their eyes and just relaxing against each other. They spent a few moments like that, submerged in warmth and each other's presence, before actually washing.

Niko turned slightly so he could wash Zevran's hair, enjoying running his fingers through the long, silky strands, free of their usual braids. When he finished, he let his arms rest around Zevran's shoulders. Their foreheads touched, and Zevran kissed his nose. The affection came easy and brought smiles to their faces. Niko let go of his shoulders so he could turn and allow Zevran to wash his hair next.

Morning light was streaming through the high windows, dust glittering in the bright sun rays that cast heated spotlights on the two elves. Zevran was dazed and happy as he held the Warden close to him. He kissed the water droplets dotting Niko's shoulder, then all the way up his neck. His gaze flickered to the earring Niko wore near the tip of his right ear, catching on the blue jewel setting that glittered in the light. Zevran couldn't help but stare at it, a warmth settling within him. That little piece of jewelry gave him so much hope, filled his mind with beautiful visions of the future. It was a promise.

He felt impossibly clean, not just from the bath but from finally sharing all of his feelings with Niko the night before. All the confusion and turmoil that had been boiling inside of him was finally gone, leaving the purity of hope and happiness in its place.

He placed a final kiss on Niko's cheek before releasing him. "I think I will go to the kitchen to find some breakfast." Zev stood, water dripping off of him as he reached for a towel to dry with.

"I'll join you down there soon," Niko said, leaning back to enjoy the full space of the tub. "I want to relax a bit longer."

"Tch. So lazy," Zevran chastised. He tossed Niko a smirk as he pulled his long hair into a loose ponytail.

Niko smiled at him, watching the assassin dress and slip out the door. The room was quiet. Not even Gideon was around. Niko assumed the hound was downstairs begging for table scraps from his companions. He shut his eyes, relaxing in the silence. It was rare that he had moments alone, especially in such luxury. He wanted to linger in it.

The serenity he felt lasted as he got dressed and finally went out into the hall. The whole estate seemed more peaceful somehow. He didn't know why. Maybe it was just him, the contentment he felt surrounding him everywhere he went. As he headed down to the first floor, he spotted Alistair coming up.

"Morning, Alistair."

"Good morning." Alistair paused and turned to him, an amused look on his face. "So, I'm guessing someone told Anora I was planning to steal her throne. She has a nasty glare."

Niko was given a pointed look that told him Alistair had no doubts about who had given Anora that idea. He gave a shrug. That hadn't been what he'd said exactly, but the plan was still to give Alistair the throne. Of course she wasn't going to be happy about it.

"She wants to be queen," Alistair said, a hint of annoyance in his tone. "I get it. I don't trust her any more than her father, but I get it."

"What do you think about her?" Niko asked curiously.

"They say that Anora is smart, determined…" Alistair thought carefully about his words. "She's supposedly the one who really ruled here, not Cailan. She's her father's daughter. Me, I say that's where the problem lies. People like her and her father always think they're the only ones who can fix things. So everyone should just stay out of their way."

Niko nodded slowly. He'd gotten a similar sense from her when they spoke. And perhaps she was capable, perhaps she really was the one who ruled instead of Cailan. But Niko had grown up in the Alienage, where they didn't even think to hope to receive aid from the rulers of the city. No money went into making the Alienage better, no laws were created to protect them, and there were no trials for the people who abused them. The elves were shoved into a corner of the city and gated in to hopefully keep them out of sight. That was under the rule of King Cailan and Queen Anora. If she truly was the one who ruled all this time, then she was even more to blame. That was how Niko saw it anyway. Putting Alistair on the throne had been Eamon's plan, and Niko had gone along with it out of necessity. But the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. Alistair might just do things differently.

"What do you think?" Alistair asked, breaking Niko from his contemplation. "When the Landsmeet comes, you might even have a say."

Niko raised an eyebrow at him. "You think they'll listen to an elf?"

Alistair smiled. "I think they'll listen to a Grey Warden, one who just might save this country yet."

Niko ducked his head, grinning. "Well I think you'll make a good King, Alistair. That's all I told Anora."

"I'm glad you think so. Anyway, if you want to get any breakfast you better head down there before Oghren eats it all."

They both turned to go their separate ways, but Niko paused. "Alistair," he said, causing the warrior to look back at him. "You don't really think I'll be doing much speaking at the Landsmeet do you?"

"I hope so," Alistair said. " _I_  don't certainly don't want to be the one doing all the talking."

"I kind of thought Eamon would handle it."

"Guess we'll see, won't we?" Alistair gave him another smile and turned to keep walking.

Niko frowned in thought as he headed into the dining room. He couldn't picture himself at the Landsmeet, trying to convince all the nobles to side against Loghain. What would he even say? What would the Landsmeet even look like? Would they all sit in a circle taking turns talking? Would it be like a trial or a little meeting? Probably not… His eyes landed on a breakfast table in the back of the dining room, so he chose to put those thoughts aside and appease his growling stomach instead. He could feel eyes on him as he strode across the room. He glanced aside to see Leliana and Wynne sitting together, both of them watching him. Leliana had a delighted little smirk on her face. Confused, Niko ignored it for now in favor of loading a plate up with bread, fruit, veggies, and what was left of the fish. He looked at his full plate and thought Alistair might be right about his increase in appetite. Though he also thought it might just be because this was the first time in his life he had access to an abundance of food.

As usual, Morrigan was nowhere in sight. Oghren was in the corner, drinking ale and telling loud jokes to Sten, Shale, and Zevran. Zevran was the only one laughing. Gideon was sitting on the floor, eagerly accepting table scraps from Sten. Zevran caught Niko's gaze and winked at him. Heart leaping, Niko smiled, though he walked on ahead to go sit with Leliana and Wynne.

"What's with the look?" Niko asked Leliana as he sat down across from her.

"You look nice today, that's all," she said playfully. "I love your new earring, wherever did you get it?"

She giggled, and Niko rolled his eyes.

"Zevran gave it to me," he said simply. Best to just let her have her fun. He reached for the pitcher of wine on the table and poured himself some while Leliana gushed.

"That is so adorable! A symbol of your love for each other, I take it."

It was almost a question. Leliana wasn't sure what their status of their relationship was exactly. Though Niko and Zevran hadn't been sure until last night either. Niko smiled behind the brim of his drink, surprised that he wasn't annoyed over this conversation. Leliana had become a dear friend over their travels. She was kind, friendly, and an adventurer at heart just like him. And most admirable of all, she listened when Niko called her out on her view of elves. They'd formed a real bond through their deep conversations, her stories, and even just pointless banters.

"Yes, I suppose that's what it is," he admitted. Leliana's face lit up, as if she were seeing a romance novel unfold right in front of her.

"That is surprising of him," Wynne admitted. "But… very sweet, too."

Even she was smiling, Niko noticed, which he hadn't expected. Wynne had made it clear to him before that she disapproved of the relationship. It was the one thing they'd strongly disagreed over. As much as he appreciated her words of wisdom most of the time, he didn't care for that particular bit of advice.

"Have you changed your mind about Zevran and me?"

"I have watched you for a time, and…" She took a breath and met Niko's eyes. "Perhaps I was wrong. There seems to be something special between the two of you. His demeanor changes when he's with you. There is a tenderness to his gaze I'd never seen 'til now."

Niko smiled softly. "But I've seen it from the start."

"Perhaps he just allowed you to see it," Wynne suggested with a little quirk of her lips. "I think I was too harsh in my judgment before, and I am sorry."

He gave a nod of understanding. "You wanted the best for both of us."

"What you have may not last forever," Wynne went on seriously. "Death and duty may part you, but love's worthiness is not diminished because of that. I should have seen this before. Instead, you learn to cherish every precious moment that you spend together, knowing that it may be the last. And for those of us watching…" She gave a gentle smile. "Well, it brings warmth to these old bones to know that something so beautiful can be found in the midst of chaos and strife."

"Thanks, Wynne."

Niko then noticed that all the eyes in the room were turning to the doorway. He looked over his shoulder, and then turned fully to see Arl Eamon standing there. His expression was serious, but his eyes held unrest. "The last of our allies have arrived in the city."

Niko stared at him, the meaning of that announcement taking a while to sink in.

"We cannot delay any longer," the arl went on, his gaze landing on Niko. "I will call for the Landsmeet to convene. Bring Alistair and join me at the palace as soon as you are ready, Warden."

Giving him a nod, Niko watched Arl Eamon disappear from the entryway. He stood, all the eyes in the room on him now. He was unable to retain any of the excited chattering that erupted from all the tables. None of it breached the barrier of anxiety that had swiftly built around him. So he gobbled down what was left on his plate, then turned on his heels to leave the room.

"Arl Eamon," he called when he saw the arl making a swift getaway down the hall.

Eamon turned to him, but kept his intent stride. He automatically launched into talk of strategy. "Remember, when we address Loghain's crimes, only bring up the deeds we can prove."

Niko nodded, beginning to feel overwhelmed. "Right." Everyone had kept saying it, and yet it really hadn't hit him until now… He really would be playing a big part in the Landsmeet…

"Now get Alistair. We mustn't waste any time."

"Okay…" Niko paused, watching Arl Eamon disappear.

Last he'd seen, Alistair had been around the guest quarters, so Niko headed back upstairs. As soon as he reached the top though, he nearly collided with the warrior.

"We've gotta go to the palace," Niko told him without preamble. Alistair's eyes filled with confusion and surprise, but Niko went on before he could say anything. "It's time for the Landsmeet. Arl Eamon left just now. Are you ready?"

The same apprehension that Niko felt he now saw crossing Alistair's face. "Oh I hope Eamon doesn't expect me to give a speech," he groaned. Niko took his arm and started leading the way back downstairs. "Maker, he probably does, doesn't he?"

"Probably," Niko said as Alistair continued his groaning. He smirked at the warrior. "At least I won't have to do all the talking."

Alistair gave him a miserable glare.

"Don't worry about that," Niko told him. "What's important is that we bring Loghain to justice and get the support we need. Because the archdemon's next."

"I guess it's too soon to expect any word from Riordan about that," Alistair noted.

Niko felt like a clumsy chicken, stumbling nervously along with Alistair even as they both tried  _not_  to look foolish. As the two of them made their way out of the estate, their companions lined up to see them off, lending their silent support with their presence. It made the two Grey Wardens feel just a bit less fearful.

Together they'd faced countless darkspawn, and giant spiders, and bandits, and all sorts of nightmarish creatures. But politics and government were strange, faceless enemies; potent ones that they could not simply swing their swords at.

They brought Leliana and Zevran with them to the palace. Niko wanted the two rogues along to keep an eye out for trouble. He'd never been to a Landsmeet, but he didn't trust that it would be safe from assassination attempts or the likes. He couldn't see bringing in his whole party of eight plus his dog to a meeting like this though, so he settled for two who could lend him aid if need be.

It had taken them a little longer than they'd liked to get their armor and weapons on and gather their group to head to the Landsmeet. They feared they were running late, so they rushed to the palace doors.

Inside, a beautiful blue rug stretched the length of the foyer, stone floors and heavy wooden pillars supporting a high ceiling. A large door stood on the other side of the room where the Landsmeet awaited. And all that stood in their way now…

Was Ser Cauthrien.

"Warden, I am not surprised it has come to this."

The four of them came to a halt, more out of confusion than caution. The soldier took a firm stance in the middle of their path, her greatsword strapped to her back. Evidently, she intended to keep them from the Landsmeet altogether.

"And Alistair," Cauthrien went on, looking upon him with scrutiny. "If you were even remotely worthy of being called Maric's son, you would already  _be_  in the Landsmeet, now wouldn't you? You have torn Ferelden apart to oppose the very man who ensured you were born into freedom. But do not think you will get past me to desecrate the Landsmeet itself," she threatened. "The nobles of Ferelden will confirm my lord as regent, and we can finally put this to rest. Once you are gone."

Niko refrained from rolling his eyes or snapping at her. She was clearly very passionate about her duty to Loghain and Ferelden, and was unfortunately only fed one side of the story. He didn't want to fight her. She was a lieutenant, and they would need every soldier they could get to take on the darkspawn invasion. And as a lieutenant she had to be smart. Surely she had suspicions about Loghain at least…

"Do you really not see what Loghain has become?" Niko asked her, trying to reason.

There was a beat of silence, and then the fire in her eyes died a little, her resolve faltering. "I have had… so many doubts of late," she admitted. "Loghain is a great man, but his hatred of Orlais has driven him to madness. He has done terrible things, I know it…" She hung her head, glaring at the floor before raising her eyes to them again. She looked torn. "But I owe him everything. I cannot betray him, do not ask me to!"

"Just let me stop him," Niko said, though he did not make a move to step forward. "You know it's the only way."

Her face soured, her eyes full of grief. "I never thought duty would taste so bitter…" Ser Cauthrien stepped aside. "Stop him, Warden. Stop him from betraying everything he once loved."

Niko was surprised when she knelt down on one knee.

"Please… show mercy," she asked. "Without Loghain, there would be no Ferelden to defend."

Niko didn't respond to that. He simply led his group past the soldier, eyes fixed on the door ahead. The plan had always been to stop Loghain and bring him to justice, but it was never said what that would entail exactly. The way Alistair talked, though, it didn't sound like there was room for mercy. Of the two of them, Alistair had suffered the greater loss at Ostagar. Niko had never entertained the idea that he might be the one to deliver a punishment on Loghain. If the decision fell to them, it would be Alistair's call to make, not his. That was how he wanted it to be.

The Warden's heart pounded with anticipation as he approached the door. He'd never felt this nervous before a fight before. But he was not used to fighting with words and accusations. He pushed the door open, curiosity gnawing at him as well as apprehension.

The throne room was the largest room he'd ever seen in Denerim. It stretched so far, he couldn't quite see the end, mostly due to the bright daylight spilling through the large windows high on the left side of the wall. Flecks of dust floated about in the long stream of light, ten times worse than it did in his guest chambers. Wooden rafters gave the room an intimidating, rustic look. It was very Fereldan.

A crowd of observers stood in the way of the doors as they entered. Alistair's bulky armor assured them a path through. As they neared, Niko noticed balconies on both sides of the room. He recognized a few faces of the people up there, some of the Banns he'd met in the Tavern. Arl Eamon was up there too, in fitted armor and carrying a sword. He was already addressing the crowd as Niko and his party entered.

"My lords and ladies of the Landsmeet, Teryn Loghain would have us give up our freedoms, our traditions, out of fear!" Eamon's fists clenched as he looked around at all the eyes on him. "He placed us on this path, yet we should place our destiny in his hands? Must we sacrifice everything good about our nation to save it?"

People began clapping, and Niko wondered how long it had taken him to come up with that short speech.

As the clapping died down, one single person continued; a heavy-handed, slow clap that drew everybody's attention to the front of the room.

"A fine performance, Eamon, but no one here is taken in by it." Loghain walked further into the room, wearing a shining heavy set of silverite armor. "You would attempt to put a puppet on the throne and every soul here knows it. The better question is, 'Who will pull the strings?'"

The crowd was thinner as they got closer to the front of the room. They were out in the open now, but Niko quelled his nerves and led the way on. People turned to glance at them, seeming to recognize who they were, or at least their roles here today. It seemed like only two or three people at first, but soon every head in the room turned to look at Niko Tabris.

"Ah! And here we have the puppeteer."

Niko felt like there were a million eyes on him. He forced his gaze away from all the people staring and turned his attention to Loghain. The teryn looked right at him, a challenge written on his face. He seemed very self-assured. Niko didn't feel nearly as confident…

"Tell us, Warden: How  _will_  the Orlesians take our nation from us? Will they deign to send their troops, or simply issue their commands through this would-be prince? How much Fereldan blood does Orlesian gold buy these days?"

 _'He's even more paranoid in person_.' Niko shook his head, leading his party to the front of the room while Loghain spoke.  _'Orlesians!'_  He thought in annoyance, nearly spitting the word out loud. It was ridiculous. The archdemon's army was the one he and Alistair were concerned with.

"The Blight is the threat here, not Orlais!"

He was surprised to hear someone from the balcony speak up. "There are enough refugees in my bannorn to make that abundantly clear."

Niko looked up to see Bann Alfstanna. She was the sister of that Templar he found locked in Howe's dungeon suffering from lyrium withdrawal. He was glad to see her. After he'd given Alfstanna that ring from her brother and informed her of what was going on, he'd felt quite certain that she would be on his side in the Landsmeet.

"The south is fallen, Loghain!" A man somewhere on the balcony joined in. "Will you let darkspawn take the whole country for fear of Orlais?"

Finally, some sense.

"The Blight is indeed real, Wulff," Loghain acknowledged. "But do we need Grey Wardens to fight it? They claim that they alone can end the Blight, yet they failed spectacularly against the darkspawn at Ostagar, and they ask to bring with them four legions of chevaliers."

Niko tensed, and he was sure he sensed Alistair doing the very same behind him. It took all of their willpower not to shout Loghain out and bring up his retreat at Ostagar. If he hadn't quit the field, perhaps the darkspawn wouldn't have completely wiped out the Grey Wardens and King Cailan's army. They would have at least stood a better chance if reinforcements had come like they expected. But Arl Eamon had stressed the importance of only bringing up what they could prove.

While the two Grey Wardens stewed in their anger, Loghain went on. "And once we open our borders to the chevaliers, can we really expect them to simply return from whence they came?"

He was aggressively impassioned when he was on the subject of Orlais, and it certainly got everyone's attention. Niko did not have speeches prepared like Eamon and Loghain did. He didn't know what to do next. Desperately, he searched his mind for something he could say, something to bring the conversation back to their advantage. "You allowed Rendon Howe to imprison and torture innocents."

A few gasps followed that sudden accusation. It was a bit out of the blue, but Niko knew he had to get the conversation off of Orlais. A lot of people here were old enough to remember the Orlesian occupation, and such talk would likely inspire a lot of fear.

A bright red movement caught Niko's eye up on the balcony. It was Bann Sighard's fancy tunic and pants that were so eye-catching. The man leaned forward on the banister, his face full of distraught. "The Warden speaks truly! My son was taken under cover of night. The things done to him… some of them are beyond any healer's skill."

More gasps.

"Howe was responsible for himself," Loghain responded. "He will answer to the Maker for any wrongs committed in this life. As must we all." He turned his gaze on Niko suddenly, his brow narrowed in an accusing glare. "But you know that. You were the one who murdered him! Whatever Howe may have done, he should have been brought before the seneschal. There is no justice in butchering a man in his home."

"No?" He glared at Loghain, a bitter taste in his mouth as he recalled all the carnage he found in the alienage.

If Loghain wanted to talk about the injustice of butchering people in their homes, then they would. There was certainly no justice in plucking elven children right from their beds and selling them to Tevinter. He even had proof with those documents they found at the alienage warehouse. Finally, Niko would be able to bring to light the atrocities that had been committed against his own family.

He was just about to open his mouth to do so, too, but he paused, his gaze lingering on the banns… The  _human_   _banns_ …

Would they even care?

They were nobles. In Niko's experience, nobles never cared. Not about elves. Sure, they'd be outraged that slavery was allowed in the capital of their beloved country, but knowing that it was "only elves" would soften the blow for them.

His shoulders sunk.

_'_ _I'm sorry.'_

His people deserved reparations for what had happened to them. They deserved an audience. People needed to know and be outraged.

And though the need for justice rang in his ears, he didn't see it happening here.

Among the banns, he spotted Arl Eamon, and he knew what he could say instead. He swallowed the bitterness clinging to his throat and turned to Loghain. "Then why did you send a blood mage to poison Arl Eamon?"

Loghain scowled at him. "I assure you, Warden, if I were going to send someone, it would be my own soldiers. I would not trust to the discretion of an apostate."

"Indeed?" Every head turned to Bann Aflstanna again. "My brother tells a very different tale. He says you snatched a blood mage from the Chantry's justice." She raised a pointed eyebrow at him. "Coincidence?"

Ferelden's Grand Cleric, a grey-haired old woman in red and golden robes, stepped forward on the balcony. "Do not think the Chantry will overlook this, Teryn Loghain." Her hand rose as she spoke in what was essentially a dramatic finger-wagging. "Interference in a templar's sacred duties is an offense against the Maker."

And Loghain did look rather chastised as he turned away from her. Niko froze as the teryn's glare fell upon him again. He was only about two feet in front of him now. "Whatever I have done, I will answer for later. At the moment, however, I wish to know what this Warden has done with my daughter!"

"Tch." Niko glowered up at him, brow knitting together in anger and confusion. "What are you talking about?" A convenient change of subject, but if Loghain was so concerned why did he wait so long to bring it up? Now that he mentioned it though, Niko would have liked to know where Anora was too. He hadn't seen her anywhere in Eamon's estate this morning, though Alistair said he had.

"You took my daughter – our queen – by force, killing her guards in the process" Loghain bellowed. "What arts have you employed to keep her? Does she even still live?"

"I believe I can speak for myself."

A collective gasp and shocked murmurs filled the room as Queen Anora entered.

Niko and Alistair exchanged glances, both of them getting a bad feeling.

"Lords and ladies of Ferelden, hear me." With a graceful and purposeful step, Queen Anora put herself at the head of the room. "This Warden has slandered and defamed Ferelden's greatest hero in a bid to put an impostor on Maric's throne."

"What!?" Niko bristled with anger, and Loghain turned to him with a self-satisfied smile.

"Oh she turned on us. What a shock," Alistair piped in sarcastically. "She seemed like such a  _nice_  despot."

Clenching his teeth, Niko rolled his eyes. He supposed he really shouldn't be surprised. He felt a heavy gaze on him and turned to see Anora glaring at him from the other side of the room.

"It has become clear to me, Warden, that the true threat to this nation is you. I offered you a chance to ally with me for the good of this nation, and you refused it. I will not allow you to destroy the throne Cailan and I have held."

Loghain straightened and turned to address the room. "Who here can say that Anora is not fit to rule this land? And who can say that this Alistair is? We know nothing of him save that he  _may_  have royal blood." He gestured to his daughter, who stood upon a glow of sunlight at the head of the room. "For five years Anora has been queen, and proven herself worthy of the Theirin name. She can lead our people through this crisis, and I can lead her armies." His arms outstretched, Loghain turned his eyes on the people gathered. His voice reached new levels in his fervor, bringing every bann forward on the balconies. "My lords and ladies, our land has been threatened before. It's been invaded, and lost, and won times beyond counting. We Fereldens have proven that we will truly never be conquered so long as we are united. We must not let ourselves be divided now. Stand with me, and we shall defeat even the Blight itself!"

Niko was sweating. He had nothing quite as stirring as Loghain's speech to win them over. He couldn't tell them that they needed Grey Wardens to defeat the blight… that the Wardens sacrificed so much to gain the abilities they had… If people knew, no one would ever willingly join the Wardens again. And then who would watch over the land and remained prepared while everyone else grew complacent? It had to remain a secret.

He stood stiff and silent beside Alistair, anticipating every bann to pledge their allegiance to Loghain. He glanced to Leliana and Zevran to see if they were prepared. They would all probably have to fight their way out of here…

"South Reach stands with the Grey Wardens."

"Waking Sea stands with the Grey Wardens."

"Dragon's Peak supports the Grey Wardens."

One-by-one, nearly every bann came forward to support them. Niko's jaw nearly dropped to the floor.

A pale, dark-haired man stepped up, his eyes searching out Niko on the lower floor for a mere second before looking away. "The Warden helped me personally in a… family matter."

Niko and Alistair looked to each other. Neither of them had ever seen the man before and they were too stunned to guess what he could be referring to at the moment.

As the flood of vocalized support continued to pour in, Niko couldn't help but smile in awe. The first time he and Alistair had gone to talk to these people in the Gnawed Noble Tavern, it had been intimidating. They were all important people, while Niko was just an elf. But later he was just helping them and their families, and it was easier then. They were all just trying to survive this war.

"The Western Hills throw their lot in with the Wardens. Maker help us."

"I stand by Loghain! We've no hope of victory otherwise."

"I stand with the Grey Warden! The Blight is coming; we need the Grey Wardens!"

Cheers erupted among the crowd. Niko looked up at Arl Eamon, who gave him an assuring smile.

They'd won.

A triumphant smile on his face, Niko stepped forward. "The Landsmeet is against you, Loghain. Step down gracefully."

That did not appear likely as Loghain's face twisted in rage. "Traitors!" he fumed. "Which of you stood against the Orlesian emperor when his troops flattened your fields and raped your wives?" He swiveled around, pointing a finger at Arl Eamon. "You fought with us once, Eamon. You cared about this land once. Before you got too old and fat and content to even see what you risk. None of you deserve a say in what happens here! None of you have spilled blood for this land the way I have! How dare you judge me!"

The room fell into stunned silence as Loghain seethed at them all.

All this time Niko had mainly thought Loghain a ruthless opportunist making a grab for the throne. At the moment, he wondered if perhaps it really was just paranoia and a severe hatred of Orlais that had brought the former war hero to this.

Maybe he was just willing to sacrifice too much. The Grey Wardens, the king, the king's army, Arl Eamon, Ferelden citizens; Loghain was willing to see them all dead in order to save Ferelden  _his way_.

He was too dangerous, and everybody saw that now.

"Call off your men," Niko told him. "And we'll settle this honorably."

To Niko's surprise, Loghain frowned deeply at him. "Then let us end this. I suppose we both knew it would come to this. A man is made by the quality of his enemies. Maric told me that once. I wonder if it is more a compliment to you or me." He shook his head. "Enough. Let the Landsmeet declare the terms of the duel."

"It shall be fought according to tradition," came Alfstanna's voice from the balcony. "A test of arms in single combat until one party yields. And we who are assembled will abide by the outcome."

"Will you face me yourself?" Loghain asked Niko. "Or have you a champion?"

Niko glanced back at his fellow Warden, meeting his eyes. Alistair nodded.

"Alistair is my champion."

Loghain seemed pleased, a wicked smile wrinkling his face. "Then let us test the mettle of our would-be king. Prepare yourself."

Niko backed up to stand with Leliana and Zevran, and Alistair stepped forth…

Murmurs spread among the crowd, people backing away as the two warriors faced off. Their eyes stayed fixed on each other for a long time, staring each other down. Weapons not even drawn yet, they circled one another, testing their footing, the time it took them to react...

Loghain was the first to pull his sword and shield. Alistair did the same, his eyes locked on the teryn. His ire was palpable, and perhaps Loghain did not know why Alistair hated him so much, didn't understand that being a Grey Warden was the only thing that had ever really felt like home to him. And Loghain had let them all die and then soiled their names. But the anger that ebbed off of Alistair reached him, and it stirred the well of rage within Loghain.

Lip curled in a snarl, Loghain lifted his heavy sword and charged him. Alistair's gaze followed the sword, but it was Loghain's shield that was suddenly coming at him like a battering ram. Alistair braced himself. Lifting his own shield to take the blow, he dug his heels in. Two heavy bashes from Loghain's shield. It was a test of strength, and Alistair held his ground.

Loghain backed up. Their eyes stayed locked on each other. Back to where they started, only now they knew a little more about each other. Every spectator was on their toes…

Again Loghain came in with his sword. It was no distraction this time, aiming for Alistair's unprotected head. But the bastard prince was faster than he anticipated. He maneuvered aside and took a vicious swing at Loghain. Heavy armor protected him from anything worse than bruised ribs, but it was a brash move. One that Loghain retaliated against. He immediately threw his shield-guarded arm around, clipping Alistair in the face.

The crowd gasped at the blood that poured down Alistair's nose and stained the edge of the teryn's shield.

Alistair's head ached and his vision swam. The room around him tilted and swayed, but he could still see Loghain coming at him. In a desperate attempt to put distance between them in this vulnerable moment, Alistair lashed out with his shield. Three times he hammered at Loghain. The teryn stumbled back and caught his balance, falling into a low stance. He quickly rose again and charged Alistair with his sword raised and shield out. Alistair lifted his sword to counter. But Loghain swung his shield out in a wide arc, throwing both Alistair's sword and shield hand aside.

There was an opening.

Loghain took it.

A sharp sword came down to chop at Alistair's neck, but he ducked. Loghain's sword met nothing but air as it swung overhead. In his follow through, he was vulnerable. Alistair was quick to get to his feet and take advantage of that. His sword lifted high and came down on Loghain. The swing was aimed at his head but clashed against a shoulder plate instead. Loghain roared at the onslaught. When he backed away, his arm hung limp for a mere second before he righted himself. He was not one to let his weakness show.

They both charged again, their shields colliding. Alistair braced against Loghain's strength. He was not prepared for the pummel that suddenly lifted over both shields and came down on his skull.

His ears were ringing. His head felt split in two. But there was no time to recover, for the tip of Loghain's sword was pointed right at him.

He saw his reflection in the sword metal as it rose above his head. Fear and adrenaline spiked through his veins.

The crowd gasped as Alistair raised his shield just in time to knock the sword away. Pain seared through Loghain's hand, his sword twisting out of his grasp. It clattered to the stone floor, and a hush descended on the entire room.

Alistair advanced on Loghain, and the teryn used what little he had left to defend himself. He lifted his shield, which was met with a swift kick from Alistair's heavy boot. He stumbled back, eyes wide as Alistair came at him stronger than ever. A shield bash put Loghain on his knees. He lifted his own against Alistair's sword coming down on him in a violent clang of metal. Again. And again. Loud ringing filled Loghain's head. Pain throbbed throughout his arm as the hits came.

But then they stopped. There was silence, only quiet murmurs stirring amongst the crowd. Loghain lowered his shield to see Alistair standing above him, sword poised to run him through.

He'd lost.

"So, there is some of Maric in you after all." He set his shield down and rose to his feet. "Good."

The crowd gathered closer now that the duel was over. Niko left the protection of Leliana and Zevran to stand beside his fellow Warden, but they followed him. This wasn't over. Niko could feel it, though he didn't know if anyone else could.

Alistair took a step back from Loghain, but the hard hatred in his eyes remained. "Forget Maric. This is for Duncan."

The tension Niko felt now spread to the crowd with those words. Alistair turned and looked his fellow Warden in the eyes, seeking agreement and unity. Niko gave him what he wanted. A nod. This was his decision. Alistair's choice. He reminded himself of that as he saw Anora's shoulders stiffen. She was looking desperately back and forth between her father and Alistair. Words –  _pleas_  – were on the tip of her tongue, but she was unable to speak. Her hands began to tremble, and the tremble spread to her entire body as Alistair lifted his sword. She didn't think to move. All she could do was stare at her father's pale face.

There was a shrill gasp from the crowd and at least one onlooker who screamed in horror when Loghain's blood splattered the floor and his daughter.

The Hero of River Dane was dead.

For Niko, at least, it was hard to feel victorious when he had to see Anora sink to her knees in a puddle of her father's blood. He closed his eyes, suddenly washed in a memory of his mother lying cold and still on the cobblestone path of the alienage. Blood on his hands, crying over her body. He clenched his teeth, warding against the memory.

The tension subsided as several things happened. Someone helped Anora to her feet and ushered her away to clean her up. Four men carried Loghain's body out of the room. Some relief settled on Niko, knowing that one enemy was taken care of. A much larger, much more dangerous enemy still loomed. But for now, they were on the right track.

Once Anora returned, the voice of Arl Eamon cut through the murmurs of those gathered. "So it is decided. Alistair will take his father's throne."

"I accept this decision. I will be king," Alistair said, trying to speak loud enough for his voice to carry. "If the Landsmeet will have me."

"Anora, the Landsmeet has decided against you," Eamon told the former-Queen. "You must now swear fealty to our king and relinquish all claims to the throne for yourself and your heirs."

"If you think I will swear that oath, Eamon, you know nothing of me," she responded sharply.

"Anora, be reasonable," Niko found himself saying, if only because he didn't want to see her executed too.

He was surprised by the cold glare she aimed at him. "Reason clearly had nothing to do with  _your_  choice, Warden."

It took a moment for Niko to feel the sting of her words. He realized how much of this had been riding on him. And she'd known that. That's why she'd wanted him on her side. In her eyes, her father was dead in part because of him.

"We cannot leave Ferelden in a state of civil war. We must have unity." Eamon turned and looked sternly at the new king. "If she will not swear fealty to you, Alistair, and renounce her claim to the throne, she is a threat to us all."

"Put her in the tower for now," Alistair decided. "If I fall against the Blight, then she can have her throne. If not… then we'll see."

It was a choice that demonstrated wisdom and thoughtfulness. Niko couldn't help being reminded of the conflict in Orzammar; how Bhelen had called for Harrowmount's execution even when he did accept the new dwarven king as ruler. Niko had felt bad about that. But he was glad he wouldn't see it go that way here.

"You would give me a chance for the throne after all this?" Anora asked Alistair, shocked.

"I said if I fall, Anora. If I fall, the throne falls to you. I won't kill you while there's a chance that can happen. Somebody has to treat this Blight seriously."

She pursed her lips. "That is uncharacteristically wise of you."

"Yes well, don't let it get around," Alistair said, turning his gaze away from her. "I have a reputation."

"Very well, then," Arl Eamon said. "Guards, take her away." He waited until Anora was escorted out to go on. "Your Highness, would you address the Landsmeet?"

Alistair frowned as Eamon looked at him pointedly. Then his brow rose in realization. "Oh… that would be me." He stepped forward, glancing at his fellow Warden as he passed by.

Niko knew how much he was dreading this public speaking, so he followed to stand just a foot behind his friend.

"Right um…" Alistair squared his shoulders, taking a breath before he raised his voice. "I never knew him, but from all I've heard of my father, what defined him was his commitment to protecting this land."

"Get to the Blight, already," Niko whispered.

Alistair turned his head. "I was getting there!" He whispered back, and then cleared his throat. "Anyway, the Blight. Yes. I may be Maric's son, but I am also a Grey Warden. I took an oath: I swore I would stand and fight the darkspawn, no matter the cost to myself. I can't break that oath just to wear the crown. I have to go with my fellow Warden to face the Blight. When the Blight is over, I'll come back and take up my duties… whatever they are… as king." He gestured behind to the Arl. "I think Arl Eamon will have to be my regent."

Eamon bowed. "Then I can do Maric's memory no less honor than you do. I accept. And may the Maker bless your efforts against the darkspawn."

Alistair nodded and addressed the Landsmeet again. "My fellow Grey Warden will, I hope, take Loghain's place as the leader of my armies." He turned, looking at Niko, victory lingering under his eyes. "Shall we finish this thing together?"

A smirk tugged at the corner of Niko's mouth. He'd walked in here branded a traitor to the throne, and now he'd be walking out as the leader of the king's armies; a force of human soldiers, Dalish elves, mages, and dwarves. A force they'd gathered on their own. He nodded to his friend. He was so ready to end this. "Have them get the armies moving."

"Right," Alistair said, quieter now, forgetting the crowd of loyal subjects when he was just addressing his friend. "The Blight is coming. Nobody can deny that now."

That was a victory in itself. Finally their warnings were heeded.

Alistair's voice boomed with real confidence as he spoke to the crowd once more. "Everyone, get ready to march." Fists pumped into the air, cheers spreading throughout the room as Alistair rallied them on. "It's going to take all of Ferelden's strength to survive this Blight. But we  _will_  face it. And we'll defeat it."

The cheers and hollers fill the room. Everyone was behind them now.

"We'd better get going," Alistair said. "Ferelden is depending on us."

-o-o-o-

Once they got to their room, Niko and Zevran were quick to pack the rest of their things. Everyone else was presumably doing the same, if they hadn't already finished while the four of them were at the Landsmeet.

Niko's hands were shaking as he knelt beside his bag and packed things into it. He was on edge with left over excitement from the Landsmeet. Zevran, too, was moving with more energy and purpose.

"Leader of Ferelden's armies!" Zevran raved. He stopped to stand in the middle of the room, regarding Niko proudly.

The Warden grinned, shaking his head. "It doesn't feel real. I've never even been part of the army, and now I'm a general?"

"That is exactly what you are," Zevran said. He reached for Niko's hands and tugged him to his feet. "You have led all of us this far. You gathered the armies.  _You_  deserve the title."

"I'm not sure I'm qualified," Niko admitted, smiling as Zevran's arms wrapped tight around his waist.

"I would trust no one else to lead us." He started leaving kisses on Niko's neck, feeling the Warden gradually relax in his arms. "Ah, you were born to lead, my dear. I can tell. I bet you had all the other elven children following you about the alienage as a child. Yes?"

Burying his face in Zevran's neck, Niko grinned. "I did."

"See? You are the man for the job, my love. Do not doubt it."

"Hm." Niko stroked his lover's fair hair, pulling Zevran into a sweet kiss. Despite the fact that they were both in thick, leather armor, the proximity of their bodies and the warm, slow touch of their lips was still enough to stir the ever-lingering heat between them. So Niko broke the kiss before it could end in them tearing off each other's armor. There wasn't enough time for that. "We should finish packing."

Zevran nodded, giving him one more peck on the lips before releasing him.

The door was nudged open, the large head of a mabari appearing, followed by a bulky body and lazily-wagging tail. Niko peered at him, raising an eyebrow at whatever was dangling from the hound's jaws. The dog began nosing around Niko's pack, trying to shove something into it.

"What's that, boy?" Niko walked over and lifted the dog's head from his pack. He found half a roast chicken sitting there, shining with dog slobber. He tried hard not to grimace. "…Ah…... Is that for me? Or are you just trying to save it for later?"

Gideon barked happily, tail wagging fast back and forth.

Coming over to peer over Niko's shoulder at the stolen meat, Zevran laughed. "You could have at least grabbed a napkin," he told Gideon, who cocked his head at the elf. "I suppose he is going to miss the food here." Zevran sighed. "He's not the only one."

"We'll try to pick up some food at the market before we go," Niko promised. "I'm not really looking forward to Alistair's stew either."

"Don't you mean  _King_  Alistair?" Zevran teased.

Niko rolled his eyes. He tied his pack and hauled it over his shoulder as he led the way out the door. "It's a good thing  _King_  Alistair is going to have servants to cook for him."

Zevran laughed. "Indeed."

"I hope he's not mad about that. I know he didn't really want to be king."

"When he's having lavish parties thrown in his honor and given his pick of every lovely young noble woman in Ferelden, I'm sure he will thank you for it."

Niko grinned. "Maybe. If there's plenty of cheese at those parties."

"A whole wall of cheese!" Zevran stretched out his arm, trying to envision it. "Cheese and women."

"Women made of cheese," Niko tacked on.

Gideon barked excitedly.

"Okay, you are both getting ridiculous," Zevran warned them. He stopped in front of the dining room door, reaching for the handle and holding open for Niko.

The Warden gave him a coy smile as he passed. "What? And a whole wall of cheese wasn't ridiculous?"

"What are you two talking about?" Leliana asked.

Everyone, with the exception of the new king of Ferelden, was gathered in the dining room. Their stuff was packed and they were ready to get going.

"We were just talking about Alistair," Niko explained. "Anyone seen him?"

"He was in Arl Eamon's study," Wynne informed them. "I assume they are having a very important meeting regarding Alistair's new role."

"It  _must_  be important," Morrigan spoke up sarcastically. "For his Highness to leave us waiting so long."

"I'm sure it is," Niko mumbled as he leaned forward on the table.

Zevran took a seat in an empty chair at the head of the table and Gideon sat down beside him. But Niko could not relax. He felt a strange mix of impatience and reluctance now, part of him wanting to simply enjoy their victory and another part of him wanting to finish everything now. There was a restlessness within him that he could not quell, as if his very blood knew that the war with the darkspawn was coming to a head. There was nothing else in their way now. They had an army, and Loghain could no longer impede their march.

Everyone looked up at the open doorway behind Niko, and the Warden turned to see Alistair quietly striding into the room. The warrior stopped right in front of him, and if Niko didn't know him better he'd say he almost expected Alistair to punch him.

"You made me king. After all this is over with, they're actually going to put me on the throne. I'm still… I'm going to be king."

Niko wasn't sure if he sounded more distressed or astounded. He didn't know what to say. "Congratulations?"

Alistair frowned at him. "Cute. I suppose I would have been mad about this before, but since our talk after meeting my sister… well, perhaps this isn't so bad. This was always a possibility. I always feared it," he admitted. "But maybe there's nothing to fear. I might actually make a good king, you never know."

It brought a smile to Niko's face to hear his friend sat that. He was relieved that Alistair was beginning to see his own potential.

"I'll tell you what, though," Alistair went on. "I'll make a far better king if I have the right people by my side to help me once I'm on the throne. People like you."

Niko's smile fell, his eyes widening a bit in surprise. He'd never imagined himself working in a palace or anything like that. It's why he'd worked as a dockhand and a smuggler instead of a servant like his father. But he felt truly honored that his friend trusted and respected him that much. And if he thought about it, he could see himself by Alistair's side no matter if they were in the filthy deep roads or a luxurious castle. Whatever else Alistair was now, he was Niko's friend first. At the very least, he'd make sure Alistair still got to have a bit of fun now and then. "If you want me there, of course I will."

Alistair's shoulders relaxed, clearly relieved as a smile lit his face. "Good, then it's settled."

Some of their companions were paying more attention to their little conversation than the others. Leliana, for one, was smiling as she watched them, none too subtly either. It was a heart-warming moment for the friends, but there were pressing matters at hand too.

"Arl Eamon has left for Redcliffe," Alistair informed. "He says the army has gathered there and is almost ready to march. As soon as we're ready, we should head to Redcliffe ourselves. The Blight awaits, right?"

Niko gave a nod and followed him out of the dining room. "We've been waiting on you actually."

"Oh…" Alistair almost blushed. "I-… I was actually getting cleaned up. You know… Loghain's blood and… erm… sweaty. Sorry. Didn't mean to keep everyone waiting."

"It's alright," Niko assured him. "Go get packed. I'll meet you at the market, okay? Need to stock up for the road."

"Okay," Alistair agreed. He started walking down the hall, but paused and turned to Niko. "Ooh! Could you make sure you get cheese while you're there?"

Niko grinned. "Sure."

 _Same old Alistair_ , he thought as he went to fetch Zevran and his dog and whoever else wanted to accompany him. He also wanted to stop at the alienage and tell his family he was leaving. He especially wanted to say goodbye, should the worst come to happen.

Soon they were all on their way though. Out on the road again, Niko looked back at the city. A vibrant sunset was brimming over the Denerim rooftops. It was peaceful, beautiful. And Niko held onto the feeling of complete serenity it gave him. He had a feeling it would be a long time until he felt that way again.


	24. The Dark Ritual

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party arrives at Redcliffe castle, where Riordan delivers troubling news. Will Niko accept what Morrigan offers him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as of July 16 2014, it has been a year since I started publishing this story. Here we are at Chapter 24. I have been reluctant to give a guess as to how many chapters are left. But I am thinking it will be about 2 or 3 more chapters til the end now. Thanks to everyone that's been reading up to this point. Hope you enjoy these next few chapters. I have ideas for more Dragon Age fics that I am excited to start as well, so you can keep an eye out for those if you are interested. In this chapter, you'll see whether or not Niko agrees to Morrigan's plan. I decided to go a little off script for that scene, but it's something I have been planning since the very beginning and I hope it works for the story. Enjoy!
> 
> Chapter Rating: T for the usual dark fantasy stuff
> 
> Pairing: Zevran/(M)Tabris

"That is a beautiful sword!"

With wide eyes, Leliana watched Starfang glimmer in the evening darkness. A bead of sweat rolled down Niko's temple as he swung the thick blade at Alistair, who lifted his shield against it with a dull  _thud_.

"It is quite impressive," Alistair agreed, smirking. "Too bad he can hardly lift it."

"That's why I'm practicing," Niko grunted, swinging the blade again.

Zevran chuckled as the sword clumsily swung through the air. "You are going to need a lot of practice." His mirthful eyes wandered from the training session to the edge of camp, where Morrigan sat. She tended to keep a separate, smaller fire by her own makeshift tent. Tonight, she was especially reclusive. She'd passed on having dinner – pork, bread, and thick slices of cheese – in favor of studying her spell book for hours.

Every now and then he'd catch her staring out into the dark woods, looking for answers perhaps.  _To what questions?_  He wondered.

"Ah!"

Zevran swiveled around at the pained sound, sighting Alistair pulling his arm out of his shield to shake off the ache.

"Alright, I'd say you're getting better," the warrior told Niko with a grin. "Maybe by the time we get to Redcliffe, you'll be ready to use that thing."

Zevran stepped toward Niko and gestured to Starfang. "May I?"

With a smile, Niko nodded and handed him the weapon. Zevran tested its balance and weight, then gave it a flourish one-handed. It swung so fast, the luminescent design left a blue light streak through the air. His eyes widened with glee, a grin spreading across his face at the spectacle. "Ha ha! I think I am in love," he confessed, swinging and stabbing the sword about the empty field with more ease than the Warden had.

Niko smirked, crinkling his eyes at his lover. "In love, you say?"

Zevran paused, turning his grin on Niko, though he ducked his head. The gesture gave him a boyish look, despite the menacing sword gripped in his hand, and it tugged Niko's heartstrings. They shared a knowing look, fire in their eyes as Zevran strode back to him. The assassin leaned in to steal a kiss, then bowed as he offered the sword back. " _Grazie_."

Placing a hand on her hip, Leliana eyed Starfang with appreciation. "It would be a shame to stain such a handsome sword with darkspawn blood, you know."

"Perhaps I won't use it on darkspawn then," Niko replied, though his eyes were still on Zevran's. The two of them were drawn together like a magnetic pull.

Alistair tried not to notice as he tacked on, "Your other sword is already enchanted especially for darkspawn-killing, so…" He trailed off, wincing as Niko and Zevran continued to make lovey-dovey eyes at each other. It was a little too much for Alistair. "I… think I am going to bed. Good night everybody."

Leliana giggled and sauntered off as well.

-o-o-o-

Three days of travel it took to bring Redcliffe castle into view. It was too bad Arl Eamon hadn't any more horses or carriages for them so they could get here quicker. He'd given the only steed he could spare to Riordan.

As they approached the village, however, Niko held up his hand to bring the group to a halt.

Darkspawn.

He sensed a large number of them nearby, scattered somewhere below the hill. As he moved his party forward with quiet footsteps, a caravan came into view. It was knocked over and set aflame. Two oxen lay dead and bloody beside it.

A throaty, inhuman growl and a horrified scream had them running down with their weapons drawn. There was a man amongst the darkspawn, but the ghastly creatures were more interested in the Grey Wardens they sensed coming. One sickly white hurlock took the lead. Niko came at it fast, then dropped low, swinging his longsword down in an arc as it got in range. The darkspawn screeched in pain, its arm cut clean off at the shoulder. With Duncan's dagger, Niko rose again, lodging his dagger under the hurlock's chin. The shorter blade passed through its skull and pulled out bloody.

Zevran chuckled at his back as three more darkspawn came. As if giving introductions, he gestured cordially between them and Niko, who stood blood-splattered beside the slumped hurlock body. "Grey Warden, darkspawn. Darkspawn, Grey Warden."

Niko ordered Wynne, Gideon, and Oghren to stay back to guard the human. He led the rest of the team in a quick dispatch of the darkspawn rampaging the village. Redcliffe was curiously empty, they realized, as they went back up the hill. The only bodies they found were the two strung up at the windmill.

The man they rescued was staring wide-eyed at Niko as they approached. "It's… It's you! The Grey Warden! Andraste's mercy that you got here when you did!" He exclaimed as the others gathered around behind Niko. "I thought for sure these monsters were going to get me!"

"What happened?" Niko asked. "Where is everyone?"

"In the castle, I think. The Arl ordered everyone in the village evacuated there this morning, just before the darkspawn arrived."

Niko nodded, glancing to the gates that led the way to the castle. He was relieved that Eamon had managed to bring them all into his home.

"I thought I could make it to my home and back before they got here," the man went on, a bit shaken. "But it took me too long to get down here. What a relief you arrived!"

"You should get to safety," Niko told him.

"I'm going to get out of here before more of those things arrive! Thank you again!"

As they hurried to the castle bridge, Niko and Alistair began to sense more darkspawn ahead.

"The castle courtyard is filled with them," Alistair told the others. "Be ready."

At the gate, they were met by a large hurlock brandishing a longsword and a spiked shield. Niko lifted his own sword to counter the darkspawn's attack. But the spiked shield rammed him back. He needn't do anything more, as a large stone fist suddenly crushed the darkspawn into the ground. He grinned, watching Shale stomp her way into the battle, sending the darkspawn scattering.

"Keep it up, Shale!" he encouraged. "Leliana, take out those archers on the stairs! Protect the Arl's soldiers!"

While Niko and Alistair led the attack on the ground, arrows flew overhead. The Arl's troops fought alongside them with renewed vigor thanks to Wynne's protection spells. When another wave of them came, they cleaved through the darkspawn, soaking the courtyard in tainted blood.

Then Niko's darkspawn senses flared, pulling his attention to the gates where a hulking presence was lumbering toward them; an 11-foot tall ogre, with pale-purple skin and spittle dripping from its teeth. The Arl's soldiers faltered back, staring with their mouths agape and eyes wide in horror.

Niko quickly scanned the field. He already saw Zevran sneaking to the side so he'd be in a position to flank the massive creature. Gideon growled nervously nearby, crouched low to the ground. An arrow suddenly lodged in the beast's unprotected shoulder. It roared, spinning around to find the offender. Leliana stood bravely, firing off another arrow into the ogre's right eye. Another frightening bellow deafened them as it got down on its hands and feet, ready to charge her. As soon as it did, Niko sprinted forward, followed by Alistair and Sten, and then the Arl's soldiers. Niko drove his longsword into its back. The creature thundered in pain, reaching back to get him off, but Niko was already dancing out of reach. The creature turned, met by the many swords and shields of warriors. It suffered a few slashes before swiping its thick arm at them, brushing them all aside with a forearm-guard covered in spikes as big as Niko's dagger.

While Sten took the ogre head-on, Zevran snuck in, placing some well-aimed precision cuts to the creature's vulnerable legs. He was out of the way again before the ogre could think to grab for him. Infuriated, it slapped Sten away in to the wall and then turned on the next nearest target. It charged Niko, tearing up the ground underfoot. He felt the earth shake as the monster stampeded towards him. Leliana's arrows and Morrigan's spells did not stop or distract it. Niko rolled aside just in time, though he dropped his weapons in the process. The creature turned on him, not losing sight of the elf. An ear-splitting bellow rang out, rattling everyone standing in the courtyard. A piercing ringing sound lanced pain through Niko's head. He winced, staggering backwards as the ogre lifted both heavy fists in the air, ready to bring them down on him.

A flash of fur soared at the ogre, latching onto its chest and neck. Gideon never looked more fierce, lips pulled back over his fangs in a menacing snarl. His eyes were crazed as he snapped at the monster.

"Gideon, no!" Niko hollered in fright. He took up his blades and ran towards the creature, praying his hound wouldn't get a mouthful of darkspawn blood.

He didn't. Instead, the ogre ripped the mabari away, leaving claw marks in its skin as it did so. The dog was thrown, landing on the stone floor with an audible whimper.

Niko shouted in outrage, leaping off the ground at the monster. He landed on its back, both of his blades sinking into the thick muscle. The ogre roared, rearing its head back in pain. Niko pulled out the dagger, only to shove it in higher. Then the sword. And the dagger again. He kept it up, using the blades to climb his way up the ogre's back. He held on tight even as the ogre thrashed around in agony. Blood poured down the front of his leather armor and soaked his blades and gloves. One of his hands slipped. His heart raced as he hung by one hand, scrambled to get a grip around the hilt again. When he did, he found himself on the ogre's shoulders. He could barely see the soldiers and his companions fighting on the ground, too focused on avoiding the ogre's meaty hands reaching back for him. He ducked a swipe from sharp nails and ripped his dagger from the ogre's back. And he reached over to drive the blade into the ogre's throat.

A wet, blood-filled roar filled Niko's ears. His head ached as the creature stumbled around. He let go of the dagger, leaving it wedged in the ogre's throat. Pulling out his sword, he leapt down from the monster, getting out of the way as it crashed to the ground.

Silence followed as everyone stared at the monstrous beast, lying dead in an expanding pool of its own blood. Niko's breaths came heavy as he struggled to his feet, drained of stamina. But he moved as fast as he could to his dog, ignoring the admiring stares all around him.

Wynne was already with the hound, and she looked up at Niko with a reassuring smile. "He's alright," she said softly.

"Good boy," Niko told the mabari, kneeling beside him to pet him. The dog's tail wagged enthusiastically as he nuzzled his master.

As Niko stood, a soldier rushed to the bottom of the stairs to meet him. "My lord! You're here! Thank goodness!"

"What's happened?" Niko asked,

"I don't rightly know. Riordan of the Grey Wardens arrived this morning just ahead of the darkspawn. I was told he has urgent news, and to send out patrols to watch for your arrival. Then we were attacked…"

Niko have a curt nod. "Take me inside."

"I should take you to the hall right away, my lord," the soldier said as he turned to lead the way. "They'll be waiting for you in there."

Niko followed, eyeing the soldier's back as he silently trailed behind. He was starting to get used to being shown respect, but being referred to as "my lord" was definitely strange. He was a Champion of Redcliffe though; it was a title Arl Eamon had given him, and it seemed like he was truly recognized as such here.

Riordan was indeed in the hall, along with Arl Eamon and Bann Teagan and a handful of guardsmen.

"It is a relief to see you unharmed," the Orlesian Warden said when he spotted Niko. He crossed his arms over his chest and bowed. "And you as well, Alistair… or should I say 'your Majesty'?"

There was a hint of mirth in his tone, and Alistair's eyebrows rose. Just as Niko was not used to being called 'my lord', Alistair was not used to being referred to as royalty either. "Err… no. No, I wouldn't say that. Not yet anyway."

"The darkspawn that attacked Redcliffe were relatively few in number, I'm afraid," Riordan went on, his expression gravely serious. "It was assumed the horde was marching in this direction… but that is not true."

Arl Eamon, in his heavy armor, stepped forward. "Riordan tells us that the bulk of the horde is, in fact, heading towards Denerim. They are perhaps two days away from the capital."

"What?" Alistair asked, sounding as if he'd had the wind knocked out of him. "Are we sure about that? I mean… if that's true…"

"I ventured close enough to "listen in", as it were," Riordan told them. "I am quite certain."

 _Two days_ , Niko thought, the realization slowly suffocating him with alarm. In two days darkspawn would rush the streets of Denerim. In two days, his family would face these monsters, and they would not be prepared.

He swallowed his fear even as it threatened to overwhelm him. "Has word been sent to Denerim?"

"Word has been sent," Eamon assured. "But they need more than warning. They need our armies."

Riordan turned his back to them, looking into the pit of the large hearth behind them. "There is, I'm afraid, one other piece of news that is of even greater concern. The archdemon has shown itself. The dragon is at the head of the horde."

Teagan's face paled, filling with dread. "Maker preserve us!"

"But we can't reach Denerim within two days, can we?" Alistair asked, voicing the fear that was already weighing on Niko's mind. "It's too far."

"We must begin a forced march to the capital immediately, with what we have," Eamon told them. "Denerim must be defended at all costs."

"Is it even possible to reach the city in time?" Niko asked sharply. He felt helpless… and angry that they hadn't just stayed in Denerim to begin with. His family was there and they needed him. The city guards weren't going to go out of their way to protect the alienage! In fact, they might think it a good strategy to let the darkspawn kill the elves while they save their own hides.

"Perhaps not," Riordan answered grimly. "But what is important is that we know where the archdemon will be. If we do not defeat the archdemon, it will not matter if Denerim is saved or the horde defeated. And only the Grey Wardens can defeat the archdemon. That is why we must go."

"Then we march," Alistair said. "And hope the army we've collected here gives us the chance we need. Arl Eamon, how long before the army can set out?"

"By daybreak…"

"Then let's get them ready. I won't let all those people die without giving them a chance."

"Then we're off to war," Niko said, almost absently as he looked into the fire of the hearth. He glanced to the others to find them looking at him. "Let's do it."

"I will give the orders at once, and will notify you the moment we are ready to march," Eamon told them.

"That would be appreciated," Alistair said.

Riordan looked to Niko, catching his eye. "Then if you and Alistair could meet me before you retire, we have Grey Warden business to discuss."

Niko gave him a nod.

"I will have someone show you to your rooms," Eamon told them. "I suggest you all get some rest, while you can. We will need it."

-o-o-o-

Niko cupped cool water from the basin, sighing in relief as he used it to wipe the grime and darkspawn blood from his skin. He heard Sten having a conversation with Gideon in the corner of the room. Glancing over his bare shoulder, he saw Gideon's tail wagging as the hound barked happily at the Qunari. Niko smiled to himself, running wet fingers through his hair. For some reason, a few of his companions had decided to gather in his room, and he hadn't had the heart to kick them out yet. Morrigan was sitting on a couch in the room, and he felt her eyes on him.

He reached for his tunic and pulled it on before leaving the room. He wanted to get this Grey Warden business out of the way so he could try to get to bed as soon as possible. He knew it would be hard to fall asleep tonight. As tired as he was, he was overwhelmed with tension, feeling it deep in his nerves. They were getting so close now. The archdemon. And his family was even closer. Danger was upon them and there was nothing he could do to jump in front of it and save them this time. All he could do was hope they held out until he got there.

"There you are."

Niko, broken out of his thoughts, looked up to see Alistair at the end of the hall.

"Let's go see what Riordan has to say."

Giving a nod, Niko followed him inside Riordan's guest room.

Riordan looked up as the door opened, his shoulders straightening. "You are both here. Good."

Niko shut the door behind them and stood beside Alistair. He had no idea what was left for Riordan to tell them. A secret of the Grey Wardens probably. Something he couldn't share with Eamon. Being privy to closed-door discussions like this made him both nervous and proud. It felt a little like his first night at Ostagar, and the nostalgia hit him just before the bad memories did.

"You are new to the Grey Wardens," Riordan addressed them both. "And you may not have been told how an archdemon is slain. I need to know if that is so."

"You mean there's more to it than just, say, chopping off its head?" Alistair asked.

Concern crossed Riordan's face, his dark brows knitting together. "So it is true. Duncan had not yet told you. I had simply assumed…"

Alistair and Niko exchanged glances. Neither of them knew what he was talking about. Alistair had been a Grey Warden only six months longer than Niko, and despite the fact that he'd been able to provide Niko with a lot of information about the order, he figured there was probably a lot he didn't know about.

"Tell me," Riordan went on, eyeing them both. "Have you ever wondered  _why_  the Grey Wardens are needed to defeat the darkspawn?"

"I assume it has something to do with the taint in us," Niko chimed in. It was the only thing that really separated them from other people, after all.

"That is exactly what it involves," Riordan confirmed. "The archdemon may be slain as any other darkspawn, but should any other than a Grey Warden do the slaying, it will not be enough."

Niko and Alistair watched him pace, both of them hanging on his every word.

"The essence of the beast will pass through the taint to the nearest darkspawn and will be reborn anew in that body. The dragon is thus all but immortal." He stopped his pacing to stand in front of them, his gaze landing on Niko. "But if the archdemon is slain by a Grey Warden… its essence travels into the Grey Warden, instead."

Niko swallowed. "And… what happens to the Grey Warden?"

"A darkspawn is an empty, soulless vessel," Riordan explained. "But a Grey Warden is not. The essence of the archdemon is destroyed… and so is the Grey Warden."

Alarm spiked through Niko's blood, even as his mind tried to ward this frightening truth. But there was no mistaking what Riordan had just said.

He barely listened Alistair's intake of breath beside him, or the words he said next.

"Meaning… the Grey Warden who kills the archdemon… dies?"

"Yes. Without the archdemon, the Blight ends. It's the only way."

It had always been a possibility that any or all of them could die on the battlefield. But this meant that one of them would  _have_  to. Niko couldn't help but think of the story Duncan had told him on the way to Ostagar. Garahel had died when he slayed the archdemon. Now he knew why.

Niko took a steadying breath. "So it's up to the three of us to kill this thing."

"In Blights past, when the time came the eldest of the Grey Wardens would decide which amongst them would take that final blow," Riordan told them. "If possible, the final blow should be mine to make. I am the eldest, and the taint will not spare me much longer." He looked straight at Niko. "But if I fail, the deed falls to you. The Blight must be stopped now or it will destroy all of Ferelden before the rest of the Grey Wardens can assemble. Remember that."

Nodding slowly, Niko didn't watch Riordan walk toward the door. Though he heard him open it for them.

"But enough," he said. "There will be much to do tomorrow and little enough time to rest before it. I will let you return to your rooms."

"I will see you once the army is ready to march, then," Alistair told him. He glanced down, his voice quieter. "I guess this ends soon, one way or another."

"That is does, my friend, that it does."

Alistair walked out, glancing back at Niko, who turned to follow slowly. He felt as if he had lead in his boots, making it difficult to lift his feet.

There were no words exchanged with Alistair once they were alone in the hall. They shared a glance, sadness in their eyes and went to their rooms.

Fear was weighing Niko down. He didn't want to die. He didn't want anyone to die. But he could lose them all. Everyone was in danger, especially himself. He'd felt so important and proud when he was welcomed into the Order. They'd shared secrets with him, and given him a new purpose. He'd felt grateful for the chance to get out of the alienage. Since that night, however, he'd faced many horrors in the wake of the Blight. What he felt wasn't a sense of pride anymore. He was proud to be a Grey Warden, yes. He was proud of the good they'd been able to do. But what he had now – more than status, more than anything – was responsibility. He felt the weight of a nation on his shoulders. He felt the weight of millions of lives. Saving them could mean death for him. It would be noble and worthy and right… and he'd do it. Still, it was not what he wanted. He did not want to die. Not when he still had so much to live for.

The short walk to his room felt like miles, as if he was trudging through muck. He wondered if Zevran was waiting for him there as he often was. If he saw Zevran, would he be able to confess that his odds were not good? Could he tell his lover that if Riordan falls in battle that he must forfeit his life? They both knew the risks of battle. But now the odds were stacked even higher against them.

He choked back fear and sadness that threatened to drag him to his knees right there in the hallway. He had to at least make it to his bed before he fell apart…

As he pushed open the door, however, he was surprised to see someone waiting in his room. Because it was not Zevran.

"Do not be alarmed. It is only I."

Niko froze in the doorway. Her back was to him as she faced the large hearth in the room. The fire cast a long, dark shadow behind her. It was a bit creepy, honestly, but Morrigan sometimes had that way about her.

He sighed, stepping into his room. He didn't really feel like talking right now. "Don't you have your own bedroom?" he asked. Glancing around, he saw the others who had been lingering around his room had gone. Even his dog.

"I decided that it was time we spoke," she said, turning to look at him finally. "I have a plan, you see. A way out. A loop in your hole." His eyes suddenly locked on hers, silently demanding explanation, so she went on. "I know what happens when the archdemon dies. I know a Grey Warden must be sacrificed, and that sacrifice could be you." With those words, her voice softened with concern she'd rather not show. "I have come to tell you that this does not need to be."

"Does not need to be?" Niko shut the door, his eyes narrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?" He'd just found out about this terrible truth, was trying to accept it, and now she was saying that it wasn't true.

"I offer a way out. A way out for all the Grey Wardens, that there need be no sacrifice. A ritual…" She paused. "Performed on the eve of battle, in the dark of night."

"Just what sort of ritual is this?" Niko asked suspiciously.

"It is old magic, from a time before the Circle of Magi was created. Some would call it blood magic." She met his gaze before turning to walk over to the bed. "But I think that means little to one like you."

She sat down on the edge of the bed with her yellow gaze fixed expectantly on him.

He glanced away.  _Someone like me?_  No, he supposed it didn't matter. He wasn't a Templar; he was a Grey Warden. And if he was being completely honest, he was also a desperate man afraid to die. Niko turned to face her. "Then tell me more."

"What I propose is this: lay with me. Here, tonight. And from our joining, a child will be conceived. The child will bear the taint, and when the archdemon is slain, its essence will seek the child like a beacon." Niko stood speechless, so she continued. "At this early stage, the child can absorb that essence and not perish. The archdemon is still destroyed, with no Grey Warden dying in the process."

She looked up to see the Warden staring at her, dumbfounded. "You want to… have my child?"

Ignoring his incredulity, she went on calmly. "Think about what I offer you: the chance to avoid death. Or better yet, the chance to slay the archdemon and live as a hero. No Grey Warden has ever done this. In return, I conceive a child, one who will be born with the soul of an Old God." She looked him sternly in the eye. "After this is done, you allow me to walk away… and you do not follow. Ever," she stressed. "The child will be mine to raise as I wish."

Niko gaped, his eyes searching the room for some kind of answers to his mounting questions. "How do you even know this will work?" he asked her.

"This is what my mother intended when she sent me with you," Morrigan told him as if that should be obvious. "She was the one who first gave me this ritual and told me of that I was meant to do. This does not surprise you, does it? Did you not wonder why Flemeth saved your life, why she aided you? This is why."

Niko shook his head, turning away. He hadn't wondered why Flemeth saved them. He assumed she knew the Grey Wardens were vital in stopping the Blight and that was it. To think that all this time Morrigan had been planning to… do  _this_. He winced, stopping the thought in its tracks.

"What is important is that I am offering this to you now," Morrigan said, bringing him back from his twisted trail of thoughts. "It will work and it will save your life."

"Wait," Niko said slowly, turning to her again. "I want to know more about this child."

"As you wish."

She watched him pensively as he tried to choose one question out of the hundreds running through his mind.

"The child won't be hurt, will it?"

"Ignoring that after but one night it could barely be called a child… no, it will not be hurt. It will be changed."

"Will the child be evil?" He asked curiously. "What will it become?" She had said that it would contain the essence of an Old God. It sounded powerful, at the very least.

"Allow me to say that what I seek is the essence of the Old God that once was and not the dark forces that corrupted it." Her bright gaze leveled with his. "Some things are worth preserving in this world. Make of that what you will."

He chewed his lower lip in contemplation. "What do you intend to do with this child?"

"I do not wish to tell you," she told him.

The swift decline to answer made Niko suspicious. He looked her in the eyes again, squaring his shoulders. "I insist. I need to know what you plan."

She sighed. "The child will represent freedom for an ancient power, a chance to be reborn apart from the taint. Is that not reason enough to do it? I will raise the child apart from the rest of society, and teach it to respect that from which it came. Beyond that you need know nothing else."

"I see." Niko turned away, eyes narrowed in thought. He had a hard time believing she didn't intend to use this ancient power in some way. And though he counted Morrigan as a close friend, her morals were often questionable. "Enough about the child, then," he said, turning back to her.

"Then you have decided?"

He started pacing. For all the questions he'd been posing, the whole notion of this was unthinkable to him. There was a miserable smile on his face when he looked at her. "You don't think I could actually go through with this?"

"Why?" She questioned incredulously. "Because of  _Zevran_? Do you really believe that he would risk your death when it could be avoided?" Her voice was rising in frustration, though she remained planted on the bed. "Consider the possibility that Riordan may not be there to make the final blow as he plans, what then? Do you run away? Do you let Alistair, the future king of Ferelden, take the blow instead? And what if he does not make it to the archdemon, either?"

At this questioning, he looked away from her, glaring at the ground. These were all things he'd already considered. These were thoughts that haunted him. He knew his odds of making it out of the battle were slim. All these dangers they'd face this past year and he never felt as close to death as he did now.

But here she was, offering to help steer him away from it.

"Would you truly choose death rather than lay with me for one night? Would you deny yourself the tomorrows and all its rewards?"

"All right," he said and her questions ceased. "I'll do it."

A small smile settled on her face. "A wise decision."

"But I want to tell Zevran and Alistair about it."

The smile fell from her face.

"I have to," he added before she could say anything. "I'll keep Riordan in the dark about it, but not Alistair. And I'm not going to-… to  _lay with you_  without letting Zevran know."

Truthfully, he wanted another Grey Warden to know what he was doing. He wasn't sure whether or not this was something the Order would approve of. If he could get Alistair behind him at least, he would feel less like he was betraying the Grey Wardens.

Morrigan seemed to figure that out as she scrutinized him. "You know how Alistair feels about magic," she scoffed. "Do not think he will give you a reprieve."

"You think he'd rather me die?" He challenged, using her own reasoning.

She pursed her lips and then gave a sharp sigh. " _Fine_. Go now. Tell them," she said, standing from the bed. "Quickly, before daylight comes or you lose your nerve."

Slipping through the doorway, Niko gulped. He wasn't even sure he could do this. Ignoring the fact that he was not even attracted to women, Morrigan was his  _friend_. On top of that, he was racked with nervous tension and fear over the coming battle. Sex with Morrigan was the last thing he wanted right now.

He had no idea how she felt about the act itself. There had been that one awkward time in camp where Morrigan had hinted that she wanted to spend the night with him and he turned her down. That felt so long ago though, and they'd gotten past it and kindled a mutual friendship. Perhaps this was less about conceiving an Old God baby and more about trying to protect him. That was hard to believe, however, when she had apparently been planning this since Flemeth saved them at Ostagar. He wasn't sure though. He did know that he felt both grateful for and terrified of her offer at the same time.

He came to Alistair's guest room and found the door ajar. He knocked lightly and nudged the door open. Alistair didn't seem prepared to go to sleep. He was leaning against the bed post, lost in thought when Niko entered. The warrior looked up. The same apprehension that continually hung on Niko like a dark rain cloud was noticeable in Alistair's eyes and heavily-burdened shoulders. Despite that, there was a small smile on his face when he saw his friend.

"I see you can't sleep either," Alistair said. His smile dropped as he noticed Niko's unease. "Is something up?"

Niko avoided his gaze, but he saw the elf's jaw muscle twitch. Whatever it was, it wasn't good.

"What if I told you there was a way to avoid dying tomorrow?" Niko questioned.

Alistair's arms crossed over his chest as he cocked his head at Niko. "…You… mean with the archdemon, right?"

Of course there was still the chance that they'd die by some other means. But after what Riordan just told them, Alistair knew what he was referring to.

"If you mean running away, I can't do that," Alistair told him, but Niko wouldn't suggest that, he knew. And the grim look on his face confirmed that. "But… you don't mean that, do you? What is this about?" he asked, looking more and more confused.

"Morrigan," Niko started, not sure how to go on, but his mouth seemed to work just fine without his consent. "She told me about this ritual... If I… sleep with her… tonight…" His face reddened, but he went on. "She'll conceive a child. And the archdemon's soul will draw to it instead of killing one of us... At least that's what I got out of it."

There was a moment where Alistair looked amused, his eyes crinkling and his lips turning up as he waited for Niko to burst out laughing and tell him what was really going on. But the smile fell from his face as he realized his friend was serious. "You… You're not actually going to do this are you? What kind of ritual is this anyway?"

"She learned it from Flemeth."

"Well  _that's_  reassuring. Wait, no it isn't." He shook his head and turned away, pacing. Agitation was visible in every step and movement he made. His eyes narrowed on Niko like he couldn't quite understand him. "Are you crazy? You want to impregnate Morrigan… with an  _archdemon_  baby?"

"I don't  _want_  to," Niko sighed. "But this could save us."

"This sounds an awful lot like blood magic you know," Alistair pointed out as he stopped pacing.

"I know."

Tense silence filled the room and Niko watched his fellow Grey Warden sit down wearily in a nearby chair. He didn't want Alistair to disapprove. He wanted solidarity, mostly because he wasn't sure if this was a good decision himself.

"I don't know." Alistair's brow knitted together from conflicted thoughts. "It doesn't seem right."

"I don't want to die, Alistair."

The warrior's eyes softened on him at this quiet confession. He stood again, staring at his friend.

Niko was looking him in the eyes now. "If Riordan doesn't make it to the archdemon, then it's up to me and I will die."

"I doesn't have to be you," Alistair objected.

But Niko shook his head. "You're the King of Ferelden, Alistair. I can't let you make that final blow while I'm still able to. The kingdom needs you. You'll be a good king. You'll make sure the Grey Wardens are remembered and allowed to rebuild."

Alistair's gaze fell to the floor boards, unable to formulate a response. The silence seemed to stretch on between them forever.

"So you trust Morrigan?" Alistair finally said, looking up to meet his friend's gaze. "You trust her plan?"

Niko shrugged helplessly. "I don't know why she wants to do this exactly... But yes. I trust her."

His lips pursing, Alistair struggled with his thoughts, but he gave Niko a curt nod.

It wasn't much, but it was enough that Niko knew Alistair had his back on this. He turned to leave, but stopped at his friend's voice.

"The kingdom needs you too, you know." Alistair paused, waiting for Niko to look back at him. "You're a hero."

Niko's jaw clenched in an effort to clamp down on a surge of emotion. "Thanks, Alistair."

-o-o-o-

The Warden wasn't in his room when Zevran checked. He was quite surprised to see who was there instead however.

Morrigan sat on the edge of the bed. Her yellow eyes were set on the door when he looked in, and they startled him. She looked so serious, and a bit more annoyed than usual.

"He's looking for you," she told him.

Zevran blinked in confusion. He wanted to ask her what she was doing in here, but before he could even open his mouth he noticed a door opening out of the corner of his eye. Turning, he saw Niko leaving Alistair's room. And when the Warden spotted him, he froze with his eyes widening. Zevran had a bad feeling about that, but he still attempted to joke as Niko hurriedly walked towards him.

"Having a little sleepover, are we? Will Alistair be joining us as well?"

"Zev, I need to talk to you."

He sounded serious and nervous, which made Zevran's fingers twitch anxiously. But he nodded and allowed himself to be led into the bedroom. Niko shut the door behind them and glanced between him and the mage sitting on the bed.

He seemed unsure or unable to start speaking, while Morrigan pointedly refused to do it for him. She remained silent, watching Niko expectantly.

Finally the Warden sighed, though his glare was fixed on the floor for a long moment before he looked to Zevran. He looked so distraught, Zevran wanted to pull him into his arms and soothe him. He had strong doubts that his special massage skills could fix whatever this was though.

"Zev... Alistair and I got some bad news from Riordan. There are some things I can't say; Grey Warden secrets. But... you need to know this. When we face the archdemon, it has to be a Grey Warden that makes the kill. If it isn't, then the Blight won't end."

Zevran's eyes narrowed in confusion. He could see why this was important, but not why it would have his lover so distressed. He had no illusions that anyone but the Grey Wardens would be leading the charge against the dragon. Who else would do it? "I will try to stay out of the way then..."

"That's not it," Niko told him softly, and Zevran quieted. Tension seeped in to every space between them. It was not the kind of tension created by petty spats or awkward silences. This was a fearful tension and Zevran did not like it one bit. Niko's tight apprehension was rubbing off on him now and he didn't even know what the cause for concern was yet.

"The Grey Warden that kills the archdemon dies too."

There was another tense stretch of silence as the information sunk in for Zevran. And when it did, he was struck with anger.

"But why?" he suddenly demanded. Damn the secrets of the Grey Wardens. He wanted to know why his love was in such peril now.

Niko looked conflicted, but he opened his mouth to speak. And Zevran full expected the Warden to answer his question, but Morrigan interrupted.

" _Why_  does not matter," she spoke calmly. "What matters is that I have a plan to save the Warden's life. And it will work."

Zevran turned to her. He wanted to ask how and what and why, but he was too relieved at this bit of news to interrogate her now. However, Niko did not look as relieved as Zevran felt, and he noticed this. He turned to the Warden, grasping his arms. "Whatever it is you have to do, do it," he pleaded.

Niko met his gaze, wondering at his certainty. "You don't even know what her plan is yet…"

Zevran's hands moved from Niko's arms to his face. He made sure Niko was looking him in the eyes, so he could see that he meant what he was about to say. "Please, Niko… If it gives you a better chance, I want you to do it."

Niko winced, but he rested his palm on top of Zevran's hand against his cheek. He sighed, hoping Zevran would not resent this later. "When the archdemon is slain by a Grey Warden, its essence enters the Grey Warden and they both die. But Morrigan knows an old ritual… Her mother told her about it. If she and I… lay together, she'll conceive a child and the soul of the old god will seek it out instead of me."

The three of them were quiet as Zevran let him go. Niko could see Zevran's brow crease as he tried to wrap his head around this information. He'd told Zevran a Grey Warden secret; probably a big one. He didn't mention that all of this was because of the darkspawn taint – the key to their powers – but it was a secret that he and Alistair hadn't even known until tonight.

Zevran met his eyes again, and the certainty in them had not wavered. "Then you must do this. Please. You have my blessing or my permission or whatever it is you want. Please… Do the ritual."

"Are you sure?" Niko asked. His voice was strained. Zevran had never asked him for something so desperately before.

He smiled, taking Niko's hands. "I want you to live. Did you think I would rather you die than lay with another?"

Morrigan crossed her arms, arching one dark brow at Niko. "Is that not what  _I_  told you?"

Zevran turned to her. "If this spares his life, I owe you a great debt."

She frowned. "You'll owe me nothing. And after the battle, I will be gone and you will not see me again."

Zevran decided not to question her. He only bowed and backed out of the room. Niko followed him though, catching his arm outside the doorway. Zevran turned to him, surprised as Niko threw his arms around him. He hugged back, holding him in his arms and breathing in his scent.

" _Mi amor_ … I can't lose you," he whispered.

Niko held on to him tighter. And when he released him, he appeared to be holding back tears.

Zevran smiled and stroked his cheek. "Do not be upset. Sleeping with a woman is not so terrible."

The comment had the intended effect: Niko laughed, though he shook his head at Zevran. "You know I've slept with women before," he pointed out.

"And you enjoyed our time with Isabela, yes?"

Zevran's eyes were full of mischief, though Niko could see some discontent lingering there as well. "I enjoyed it because  _you_  were there."

That seemed to lighten Zevran's mood as well. In fact his eyes shined with an idea, glancing to the bedroom. "Well, perhaps I could-… No. No, Morrigan would not have it."

Niko raised an eyebrow in confusion, but it only took a moment for him to realize what Zevran had been about to suggest. While it would probably make things a little easier for the both of them, it was too much to ask of someone who was already doing so much for them. Bearing a child to save his life was no small favor after all.

He smiled, stroking Zevran's cheek as he drew him in for a tender kiss. "I'll find you later," he promised.

Zevran nodded and let him go back to Morrigan. The door shut and he sighed, walking down the hall. It was late already. Not that he expected anyone was getting much sleep. The armies were gathered – hundreds of dwarven and human soldiers, Dalish elves, and circle mages in tents surrounding the castle – and he imagined not one soul was restful tonight. Thedas had not seen a Blight in centuries, and every one before had corrupted the land and took countless lives over years before it was stopped. If this battle in Denerim failed, like Ostagar had, the Blight would spread to other nations. The fate of the world rested on Ferelden now.

But that was far too intense for Zevran to think about right now. He wandered the hall and found Morrigan's empty room. He went in, leaving the door half open, and sat down on the bed. She was borrowing something of his tonight, so he figured he could borrow something of hers as well.

He sighed, kicking off his boots and pulling his tunic over his head. That wasn't how this was. She wasn't taking Niko from him. He couldn't help but think of that night he'd accused Niko of sleeping with her in the Deep Roads. He shook his head at the memory. It seemed so childish now, the way they'd both reacted to their developing feelings. Still, though he knew this was a good thing and he'd urged Niko to do it, he would be lying if he said it didn't bother him at all. It was unfortunate the ritual didn't just involve, say, a lively naked dance under the moonlight. He'd never been one for jealousy before. But Niko was special to him. Their relationship was special and beyond anything he'd ever been involved in before. It was strange to admit to himself, but he really wanted a committed, monogamous relationship. It was also refreshing, however, to know that was what he wanted. He'd never imagined he would fall in love or settle down. That was something other people had, but not him. Now, it was his too. His smile faltered a little as he imagined what Niko and Morrigan were probably doing right now. It was no matter though, he told himself. This was to save Niko's life.

 _And after the Blight is over, we will still have each other_ , he thought. They could do what they wanted. They could travel. He could show Niko the beautiful jewel that is Antiva City. They could be married to each other, in a sense, even if it wasn't ordained by the Chantry. He smiled more at the bewildering thought as he laid back into the soft pillows. That  _had_  been what Niko suggested to him when he accepted the earring; a proposal. Perhaps they couldn't have a big wedding celebration, but Zevran decided he would do  _something_  to mark their new lives together.

He mulled over ideas for how they might do that, and those ideas soon turned to dreams as he drifted off.

When he woke again, he was startled, surprised that he had managed to fall asleep in the first place. The room was very dark and someone was getting into bed beside him. He looked to find Niko lifting the covers to slide in underneath them.

Zevran blinked several times, staring at the Warden.  _How did it go?_  He wanted to ask, but he refrained, because he didn't really want to know how his copulation with Morrigan was, and he was rather sure Niko would not appreciate the question phrased in that way. But he did want to know if it worked. He shifted closer to Niko, who turned into his arms.

"I didn't mean to wake you," Niko said quietly.

"I am glad you did," Zevran told him.

Niko looked at him a moment, a beat of silence passing.

"I know you want to ask about it," the Warden said.

Zevran smiled, sighing. "I just want to know if you are safe now. Well,  _considering_."

Considering the huge corrupted dragon and its army of darkspawn they would be facing soon.

"I don't know. I guess we'll see…" Niko's gaze fell somewhere at the end of the bed, not really looking. But the gears were turning in his head.

Zevran put an arm around him and kissed his forehead. "You should get some rest," he told Niko.

"I don't know if I can sleep," he replied.

Zevran rubbed his shoulder, smiling as Niko's head settled on his bare chest. He began humming quietly, continuing his soothing strokes over Niko's shoulder and arm. It was a tune he'd heard in an Antivan tavern many times. It was a slow, happy melody. It seemed to relax Niko; Zevran could feel the tension dissipating from the Warden's body. Zevran continued to hum the little tune, though he messed up a few times as his eyelids became heavy. Just before he fell asleep himself, he heard a quiet snore beside him. He returned to his dreams in the Fade with a smile on his face.


	25. Love before War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The army is camped for the night. Tomorrow the battle begins, but love will be made before war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was a very long wait for this chapter and I apologize. I have personal things going on that are terribly distracting, and I am surprised I had the motivation to finish this chapter at all. Not that I didn't enjoy writing it because I did and I really do like this chapter. But my mind is simply elsewhere most of the time now. But I already have chapter 26 started. I think chapter 27 will be the last, but I can't say for sure. Sorry I rushed it a little at the end. It's also rather short. I wanted to finish it in one sitting instead of coming back later and finding I had lost all my motivation to write again.
> 
> WARNINGS: Smut ahead. It's at the end of the chapter. There is also some talk about blood and major arteries just before it too, and I know that can be a major gross out for some people. I think it's fairly easy to spot when that conversation is coming up though, so you can skip over it.
> 
> Chapter Rating: M for sexual content.
> 
> Pairing: Zevran/(M)Tabris

They’d passed Lothering on their route to Denerim. It was completely unrecognizable; the farms and green grassy knolls that Niko remembered were now a blackened wasteland as far as he could see. No one in Niko’s party spoke as they marched by. And the army seemed to move a little faster; Blight sickness being a legitimate fear as they trampled corrupted pastures.

Niko led the armies as fast as he dared. He had to accept that there was no way to reach Denerim before the darkspawn did, but he would go as fast as he could manage.

Bitterly, he remembered that his fastest had not been good enough the last time his family needed him. This time they could all be dead before he even got there.

The knowledge of what lay ahead kept their camps tense each night they rested. Soldiers drank silently from the flasks they passed around to each other. Nervous coughs and fearful whispers pricked Niko’s ears as he passed through the myriad of tents. The army was set up in the bannorn, not too far from South Reach. He found his way back to his own party and sat down in the grass, still clad in his armor. The sun was just beginning to set now and already Wynne was retiring to her tent. Niko glanced around at the rest of his companions. Alistair and Sten were sharpening their swords. Oghren was passed out in front of his tent with a bottle of liquor. Shale stood unmoving nearby, while Leliana, Zevran, and Morrigan were missing. While he had no idea where Morrigan or Zevran were, Niko assumed the lute music and singing he heard in another group of people nearby was coming from Leliana.

Gideon was lying at Sten’s feet. He barked happily when he spotted the Warden and trotted over, picking up a large stick in his mouth along the way. Niko got the feeling the his dog had been just waiting to bring him that stick. He grinned as the hound nuzzled his large head into his lap, nearly knocking him over. He grabbed the stick at one end and tried to pry it from Gideon’s strong jaws. The dog growled playfully, holding on tight.

“Well if you want me to throw it, you gotta let go,” Niko chuckled.

Tongue flapping and tail wagging, Gideon dropped the stick and became more excited as he watched his master stand up. The stick was thrown and the mabari turned tail to sprint after it with almost as much fervor as he would muster to chase down a rabbit.

With pride in his steps, Gideon brought the stick back, setting it at his master’s feet. Niko patted his head and picked up the stick to throw again. He felt a little more at ease as he watched his dog play.

“He’s a little less intimidating when he’s like this,” came a voice behind him.

Niko turned, beaming when he saw a familiar elven mage in blue robes.

“Alim! …I wasn’t sure they’d let you come.”

“Me either,” the mage answered, stepping a little closer until he was at Niko’s side. “Seems they needed everyone they could spare.”

“It’s true,” Niko said, leaning down to retrieve the stick from Gideon again. “This is gonna be a tough battle.”

And that was putting it mildly. He ignored the feeling of dread boiling in the pit of his stomach when he looked at Alim. Back in the Circle Tower, he’d told the mage he didn’t want his help. He hadn’t wanted to risk his life. Now he was in more danger than ever.

“I hope my mother is okay,” Alim confessed suddenly, bringing a rise to Niko’s brow. The mage looked down, frowning and kicking at a patch of dirt. “…I hope I can help.”

Niko put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re already helping.”

There was shared warmth in their gazes as their eyes met, and Alim managed a small smile. A high-pitched whine for attention had them turning their focus to the mabari sitting at their feet. The dog’s dark eyes were fixed on Niko, tail thumping impatiently as the stick protruded from his jaws.

Niko chuckled and leaned down to take the stick from him, though Gideon put up another fight.

“I’ll leave you to your game,” Alim said cheerfully. “I hope you rest well tonight, my friend.”

“I’ll try,” Niko said as he pried the stick from Gideon’s teeth. “And the same to you.”

While he watched Alim leave, another elf dropped into his vision… dropped down from the limb of a tree, to be exact. Niko blinked in surprise, forgetting about retrieving the stick for a moment, which made Gideon growl. Out of the shadows of the woods, Zevran emerged, hands clasped behind his back as he strolled toward the Warden.

Niko smirked at him and let the stick go. “I shouldn’t be surprised that you were spying.”

Zevran gave a shrug, a hint of a smile on his lips. “I am always watching over you, my dear. Especially when attractive strangers approach you. It is part of my job, no?”

“He’s not a stranger,” Niko explained. “We’re both from the Denerim Alienage. Alim was taken to the circle when we were both little.” Niko glanced aside, smiling. “Alistair once told me that the good thing about a Blight is how it brings people together. I think he was joking, but he may have a point.”

Zevran chuckled softly, but his attention soon turned to Gideon, who was nudging Niko’s hand with his muzzle, trying to get him to take the stick.

“Gideon,” Niko chastised lightly.

“Here,” Zevran said, sticking his hand out. “Bring that to me. Let me give it a good throw.”

Gideon’s tail wagged as he brought the stick to Zevran. The assassin glanced around for a good place to aim it. Then he drew his arm back as he would when throwing a dagger and chucked it towards a spot between two other camps. One of them had a small fire going, and Niko could now see that Leliana sat among a group of soldiers there, strumming her lute. Gideon chased after the stick, but he paused, staring at Leliana as if he were as mesmerized by her song as the soldiers were.

The two elves watched for a moment before Zevran turned to speak to the Warden.

“Are you interested in practicing with that dazzling sword of yours while we have some time?”

Niko gave an eager nod. “I’ll get Starfang and meet you back here.”

-o-o-o-

Swords and daggers sheathed, the two of them walked toward a patch of forest not far from the main camp. Despite the fact that they could still see the campfires and tents from where they stood, the shadows under the branches and thick tree trunks made them feel quite isolated.

The smirk on Zevran’s face seemed permanently planted there as he drew his blades, eyes fixed on his lover while circling him.

Niko’s eyes narrowed in question, though he smirked back at him.

“Are you ready, my Warden?”

Hand reaching back for Starfang, Niko gave the sword a flourishing swing as he unsheathed it. "Ready."

The sword's blue light display never failed to capture Zevran’s attention.

While his lover’s gaze was caught on the ornate blade, Niko moved in quickly, gripping the sword in both hands as he brought it down on Zevran.

The assassin’s eyes flashed with some surprise and raised both sword and dagger to deflect the hit. “Very good,” he praised as Niko backed off. “I see you have been taking my lessons to heart.” Zevran circled, matching Niko’s cautious footfalls, and shot him a smug grin. “Playing fair is a charming notion, but so very impractical in battle. Now, let’s see if you can wield two blades at once, hm?”

Niko nodded and was about to reach for his dagger, hoping he was strong enough to hold Starfang in one hand now. Zevran was not waiting for him, however. The Antivan was on Niko with both blades. Eyes widening, Niko lifted Starfang in time to deflect the attack. Zevran did not relent, laughing with ease as he moved right in for more strikes. Niko backed up, parrying with his heavy sword. He needed to get his dagger, so he let go, holding on with one hand so he could unsheathe the shorter blade.

While Zevran was not aiming to do damage, he was not taking it easy on Niko either. When the Warden reached for his dagger again, Zev saw the opening and took it. He thrust his sword forward, and was pleased to find that Niko was fast enough to dodge it in time.

All four blades drawn, they resumed their dance of death. As always, they anticipated each other’s moves, matched each other’s footwork… They knew each other well.

Sweat dripped down their backs, their breaths growing heavier. Still, Zevran grinned at him, as if he had something up his sleeve tonight.

“Now where did we leave off in our last lesson, hm?”

They continued their circling steps around each other, but their blades lowered to their sides. Niko thought back to the last time Zevran had imparted more secret Crow techniques to him. It had been on their last trip from Denerim to Redcliffe. When they’d set up camp the first night, Zevran had snuck up behind him...

“You showed me how to inflict deeper wounds that would bleed out,” Niko reminded, though he had a feeling Zevran didn’t need reminding.

“Ah yes.” Zevran wasn’t trying very hard to suppress the smirk on his face as he sauntered over to the Warden. He set his weapons down as he came up behind Niko, prompting the Warden to do the same.

Niko chuckled under his breath, grinning as Zevran pressed against his back.

“Yes, I believe we were about… here.” Zevran’s hand settled at Niko’s waist. And even through the thick leather armor, the touch sent a thrill of pleasure to Niko’s groin. He leaned in close to whisper in Niko’s ear. “Do you remember what I told you?”

Grinning, Niko arched his neck to glance at Zevran. “Tell me again,” he whispered.

Zevran smirked, happy to oblige “You can hit major arteries several times if you are quick. Your opponent will bleed out in a matter of moments. No need to spend extra time on the poor fool. You can move on to the next while they are writhing on the ground.” H is free hand moved to Niko’s bicep, uncovered by armor, and Niko felt the squeeze Zevran inflicted. “There is one here…” He took off his glove, sliding a finger down Niko’s neck. “And here.” Niko huffed a laugh, and Zevran’s smirk became quite filthy as his hand slid lower. Holding the Warden tight against his chest, Zevran reached down and splayed his hand out on Niko’s inner thigh. “Here…”

Niko gasped, his skin burning as Zevran’s hand went a little higher. The pressure of the assassin’s fingers settled between his hip and groin.

“And there…”

Niko’s breaths were coming out ragged, feeling his sense of control slipping as arousal overwhelmed him. Zevran’s hold on him was tightening, becoming possessive. He pressed his forehead to Niko’s temple, his teeth clenching as he felt his own restraint waning.

The potent smell of forest and sweat lingered in the hot air around them. Zevran breathed in the scent, regaining some control. He relocated his hand to Niko’s neck, thumbing the smooth skin before moving up to grasp his jaw.

“What every assassin has in common is this: they thrive on that fatal blow.” Zevran  whispered so close to his ear, Niko could feel his breath as he went on. “ Knowing that someone else’s life is in your hands…” His grip on Niko’s jaw tightened, and he forced the Warden to arch his neck so he could scrape his teeth against the soft flesh. “And that you have all of the power…”

“Zevran,” Niko breathed, his eyes closing.

He needn’t say anymore. Zevran released his jaw, spinning Niko around to press his back into a tree trunk. Their lips collided with force, pressing Niko’s head back into the coarse bark. He didn’t care, and impatient hands frantically sought out bare skin.

Their teeth clicked together, tongues sliding roughly into each other’s mouths with more and more haste as they failed to get each other’s belts and buckles off fast enough.

“Zev,” Niko gasped, what he needed to say stifled by Zevran’s lips devouring his own. He managed to finally speak when the assassin’s mouth moved to suck on his neck instead. “Zev, we need things from camp…”

He felt Zevran’s grasp on him tighten, as if the notion of detaching from each other made him want to hold on more. His kisses trailed up Niko’s neck, slowing down and allowing his grasp to loosen. His smooth hands rubbed up and down Niko’s biceps as their lips met again. It was a slow, romantic kiss that helped calm the taut sexual tension spurring them on.

When Zevran broke the kiss and looked at him, Niko saw mirth and cockiness in his eyes.

Wordlessly, Zevran reached for his belt pouch and produced a small vial that Niko recognized immediately. It was, after all, an essential in their nighttime fun.

Niko grinned, eyes full of delight as they traveled from the vial to Zevran’s smirking face. “You do come prepared, don’t you?”

Zevran chuckled. “One never knows when or where the moment will strike. Unfortunately, I did not come prepared with a blanket, so…”

Niko gently cupped his cheeks, pulling him in for another long kiss. When he released him, Zevran’s eyes were wide and dark with lust. “I don’t care,” Niko said. “I want you right now.”

The tension was pulled stiff once again, and Zevran attacked his lips with kisses while roughly tugging at Niko’s leather pants. Niko helped by quickly undoing his buckles, and then moved on to Zevran’s.

With hyper-focus, they managed to quickly remove every last inch of clothing, rewarded with the sight of bare skin. Niko gasped as strong hands gripped his thighs and hauled him up. His back hit the tree, much more uncomfortable without his armor to protect his naked skin this time. Zevran’s wet lips were on his chest, and he held on to the Antivan’s shoulders to stay up.

“Zev,” he whispered, almost too overwhelmed by arousal to speak. But his eyes caught on a patch of soft grass nearby, and he knew what he wanted. “Zev, let’s move over there.”

With reluctance, Zevran turned his head to look where Niko was pointing. His eyes lit up, a mischievous smirk on his lips. “You want to make love on the forest floor, hm?” Not waiting for a reply, he held tight to Niko and carried him where he wanted to go.

Niko laughed, watching the light of the campfires outside of the forest disappear from his sight as he was lowered to the grassy floor. The green blades were soft but somewhat irritating. It was better than tree bark on his back though, so he did not complain. Zevran kneeled between his spread legs, eyes lust-blown as he stared at the Warden and opened the vial.

Feeling familiar pressure at his entrance, Niko’s eyes squeezed shut as two lubricated fingers slipped in. He stifled a groan, knowing the pain would soon turn into pleasure. As usual, it took him a moment to remember to relax, and when he did, Zevran’s fingers found a smoother path. Niko’s pained grunts turned to sighs of pleasure masked only by the sounds of crickets in the forest and the troops still milling about camp not far from them.

Once he was able to move three fingers in and out with ease, Zevran removed them and reached for the vial again. Niko watched with hungry anticipation as the assassin slicked up his throbbing cock. It didn’t go by Zevran’s notice. He smirked at his Warden, hands moving to Niko’s thighs as he positioned himself.

“Mi amor… are you ready?”

“Yes,” Niko sighed, heart fluttering at those words. He watched Zevran spread his legs wider and soon felt the burn of Zevran’s hard length entering him. A loud moan ripped from deep within him, and he was almost afraid the whole army had heard.

Zevran was less concerned about that. He gleefully moved his hands down to Niko’s hips and slowly thrust himself in further, earning another moan from his lover below him.

Pulling out halfway, he sank in again. A feverish blush spread throughout Niko’s body, unseen in the dark but definitely felt under Zevran’s hands. Niko’s skin was warm and damp with perspiration. Zevran felt a bead of sweat trickling down his own skin as well. He didn’t mind the stifling humidity though. It came with the territory of summer love-making.

Niko was consumed with pleasure. His head fell back into the grass, peering up at the starry sky through towering tree branches. He heard his own heavy breath, panting huffs forced out of his lips every time Zevran pressed inside of him. He lifted his head, reaching for Zevran’s shoulders to keep himself up so he could see the other elf. Finding Zevran looking right back at him, the sight of his lover left Niko’s mouth gaping.  He was magnificent; those long strands of hair glowing pale gold in the moonlight that filtered through the trees, his eyes holding greater depths of emotion than Niko ever thought they would.

His breath hitched as Zevran gave a longer thrust, reaching deeper inside.

“Zevran,” he gasped sharply, the elf’s name hitting a high pitch as it left his lips.

Zevran’s response was to lean down and press kisses to Niko’s chest and neck. Niko’s arms wrapped tight around his shoulders, and their bodies arched together with every deep thrust.

Niko buried his face in Zevran’s shoulder, closing his eyes as his worries trickled in. Tomorrow they would reach Denerim. This could be their last night together. He held back a surge of fear, clamping down on it and focusing on his lover instead. If this was indeed their last night, he wanted to give all his attention to it. His legs wrapped tighter around Zevran’s waist, and his arms held snug around Zevran’s neck. “Zevran,” he whispered again. And this time, Zevran sensed the struggle behind it.

He turned his head, kissing Niko’s neck and wherever else he could manage to reach with Niko clinging to him as he was. His arms encircled Niko’s back, forearms digging into the grass under him.

As they clung to each other, Zevran’s thrusts came harder, pressing Niko’s body roughly into the ground. Niko couldn’t help the tears he felt escaping his eyes. He wanted to hold onto Zevran forever, tell him how much he loved him over and over again. He couldn’t manage a single word though.

He listened to Zevran’s grunts and breaths as his hips moved frantically against him. And Niko’s breath caught in his throat, reaching his climax just before Zevran. Their bodies stuttered to a gradual halt, sighs escaping their lips as they relaxed.

Niko didn’t let go of Zevran’s shoulders, leaving his face buried there.

“My Warden,” Zevran whispered, stroking his hair. He wanted to ask if Niko was alright, but he knew what was going on in Niko’s head right now. The same thoughts were going through his mind as well.

They didn’t want to lose each other.

But tomorrow, anything could happen.


	26. This is War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Niko has a nightmare... before the real nightmare begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Wow, I never thought I would go so long without updating this story. At one point my flash drive died and I lost a lot of work, along with my motivation. And then life got in the way. I started working full time, got into a relationship, got dumped, got into an other relationship... I could write a book about this past year alone. But I'll be sure to finish this story first. Like I said, I could never abandon it. Hopefully some of you are still interested in finishing it with me. I wanted to make this chapter much longer to make up for the wait, but I'm struggling to expand on it with everything else going on. So I cut it short so I could finally post something BEFORE I hit the year mark since my last update. Damn. Don't know when the next chapter will be out. I'm starting an internship soon, and I'm still working, so my plate is kind of full already. But I will try. I want to finish this and get to the sequel I have planned.
> 
> Chapter Rating: T for the usual battles and killing and dark fantasy stuff
> 
> Pairing: Zevran/(M)Tabris

_One, two, Maric’s run through…_

_Three, four, the kingdom’s at war…_

_……….Eight, nine and now you die!_

Niko gasped for breath, eyes flying open to meet the darkness. Jolting up from his bedroll, he felt hot sweat covering every inch of his skin, tunic clinging to his back. He didn’t make a move to pull off the sticking fabric though. He _couldn’t_ move, scared stiff by his nightmare.

Beside him, Zevran stirred. In the dark, the other elf sat up slowly with his eyelids drooping. But he was alert within seconds, shadowed eyes falling on the Warden. He remained still and quiet, watching Niko gradually calm, his heaving chest slowing as the panic began to subside. It was not the first time Niko’s nightmares disturbed their slumber, and Zevran would always wait beside him, ready to comfort him if needed.

Finally, when Niko’s breaths were no longer desperate gasps for air, when all they could hear were the chirping of crickets and the crackling of camp fires, Zevran reached over to brush sweat-soaked hair from the Warden’s forehead.

“Is it the darkspawn, _amor_?” he asked softly.

Niko shook his head, body stiff as he stared down at his hands in his lap. “No,” he said, his voice sounding hollow and foreign. “It-…” He gulped down the urge to sob as the horrors sprang once again to the front of his mind. “The alienage…”

Images of blood-spattered halls and seared, lithe bodies burned behind his eyes. Worst of all were the ghosts of children’s rhymes in his head, replaying and taunting him, ending in screams.

He shut his eyes tight, hands clenching around the fabric of his bedroll. Tears threatened to break free from his eyes, but he choked them down. Not until he felt a warm hand atop his own did he lose his will to hold them back.

Even in the dark, Zevran saw thin tears trickle down his lover’s face. He laced his fingers with Niko’s, feeling the other’s grip tighten.

“They could be dead right now,” Niko said through clenched teeth.

Zevran dropped a kiss on Niko’s shoulder before resting his forehead there. He was talking about his family. Niko’s concern for their safety hadn’t waned since leaving his home nearly a year ago.

“The city has defenses, my Warden,” Zevran assured quietly. “The darkspawn may arrive ahead of us, but we will be close behind them.”

Niko was quiet for a long moment, so long that Zevran glanced to see if he had fallen back to sleep sitting up. But what he found was steel in Niko’s gaze, somehow strengthened by the wet trails under his eyes where his tears had fallen.

“We will,” Niko agreed, and started getting to his feet. “I’m moving the troops.”

Zevran watched Niko leave the tent, listening to his lover’s footsteps in the grass until he heard them no more.

-o-o-o-

Wind swept through the craggy paths they marched through towards Denerim as the high morning sun shined down on the army. Armor glittered in the sunlight, and thousands of footfalls sounded throughout the hills. There was a sense of comradery amongst the army, despite the fact that the allied factions were so diverse. They’d come so far, together, united by the Grey Wardens against a common threat. But as they made their way northeast and the hour grew later, they noticed a change in the sky the closer they got to the city. Above them, blue muddled into grey, and they marched under gloom and darkness until, finally, the heavens became a blaze of red looming over them, as if the sky itself suffered a massive wound. The army became quiet, thousands of gazes turning upward, startled whispers circulating amongst them.

“That’s what they say happens during Blights,” one man said quietly to his confused comrades. “Whole sky turns red like blood.”

Riordan didn’t glance back as he responded. “It’s been poisoned by the archdemon.”

Even miles back, they could see the creature flying above the city as they approached. The tip of Fort Drakon pointed toward a deep red blotch in the sky, where the archdemon soared with great, ugly wings.

The blood of every soldier spiked with fear and determination. War was upon them.

They passed outlying buildings on the path into Denerim. Most were burned out houses, some corpses here and there, and all were deserted. They came to a pause at one of the city’s watchtowers, a rough stone structure that reached for the crimson sky. There was a stage at the foot of it, and Alistair climbed up as their soldiers rallied near to hear what the new King would say.

His fellow Warden had no idea what would come out of his mouth. But he sure was proud to see Alistair taking the stage without hesitating.

“Before us stands the might of the darkspawn horde! Gaze upon them now, but fear them not!”

Niko caught his eye as he walked up to join him on the stage, and it stirred a realization when he saw the hard determination and pride in Alistair’s face. This was not the same man he escaped Ostagar with. His friend had changed over the months it had taken them to get here and now. He was no longer a follower. He would lead an entire nation if they made it through today.

But Niko was not the same either. He’d once dreamed of adventure and travel and marvelous battles. He knew now that it was not all he romanticized back in his father’s hovel, reading heroic tales with his cousins at his side. It was bloody and difficult, and he’d seen things more beautiful and more brutal than he’d ever imagined.

It was a shared understanding between the two Wardens as they stood before their army.

“The man you see beside me is an elf,” Alistair’s voice boomed. “Raised to the ranks of the Grey Wardens. And never a more glorious Grey Warden has there been.”

Niko’s face burned at these words, pride welling up within him, but he kept a straight face in front of the crowd, despite feeling like he could burst into a million pieces.

_Glorious…_

“He has survived despite the odds, and without him none of us would be here! Today we save Denerim!” Alistair turned and stepped down off the stage, pausing with the city at his back.

He looked like a king. A hero. With soldiers hanging on his every word and a battle before them. These were his people and this was their country, and they would defend it.

“Today we avenge the death of my brother, King Cailan! But most of all, today we show the Grey Wardens that we remember and honor their sacrifice!”

The crowd was stirred up. It was in their eyes. They were ready to fight.

Alistair turned and pointed to the Capital.

“For Ferelden! For the Grey Wardens!!!”

He heard the battle cry behind him, felt the rush as soldiers stampeded past him to run headfirst into blighted battle.

The city gates were flooded with darkspawn. Fires blazed around crumbled structures, parts of the city’s walls and towers torn down into heaps. There was a slaughter going on here. Human bodies littered the ground, pools of blood in the street.

Riordan led a unit somewhere ahead of Niko’s group, and they brought in the rear. It was a blur of ruthless combat as Niko rushed in with his army and companions. He stood shorter amongst most every soldier, but he fought with a ferocity and familiarity of the enemy no one but Alistair or Riordan could compare to. His senses were ablaze. His heart pounded so loudly to his sensitive ears, twitching at the sound of metal clanging against metal all around him. The coppery scent of blood being spilt and staining the ground left an awful taste in his mouth.

As bodies fell, he soon became aware that they were winning on this front. Slashing his sword through the middle of a genlock, Niko turned to see Riordan approaching him as soldiers rushed off to finish the last of the darkspawn by the entrance.

“You’ve managed to fight your way to the gates,” the elder Warden said. “We’re doing better than I hoped.”

“That will change quickly.”

Niko did not need to turn to know that the brusque comment had come from Sten, who’d gathered with the rest of his companions behind him.

“Bloody nug runners!” Oghren panted. His shiny heavy armor was splattered with bright red blood, bits of gore stuck to his beard as well. “We’re outnumbered three to one!”

“What are we to do now, Riordan? You have a plan, I assume?” Wynne asked.

Niko glanced to her. She seemed alright. She wasn’t covered in blood, which meant she managed to keep her attacks ranged.

The thought of Wynne running out of mana and swinging her staff at hurlocks with blood-rusted serrated blades coming down on her made Niko shiver. As capable as Wynne always proved and as strong as she truly was, he knew she tired faster than the rest of them. He worried about her.

He was worried about all of them actually. They might not all make it today. They could all die in the next few hours.

It was time to say their goodbyes, he realized, as Riordan answered.

“The army will not last long, so we’ll need to move quickly to reach the archdemon. I suggest taking Alistair and no more than two others with you into the city. Anyone you don’t bring can remain here to prevent more darkspawn from entering Denerim on our tails.”

Niko glanced behind him at the others. Alistair was definitely coming with him, but who else? Whoever came with he would be pitting against the archdemon itself. And whoever stayed behind… this was possibly the last he’d ever see them.

His gaze lingered on Zevran, and the other elf caught his gaze for a brief moment before Niko looked away, clearing his throat. “How are we going to fight a flying dragon?” he asked Riordan. Last he’d seen, the beast was hovering high above the city, dropping low only to breathe out devastating purple fires.

“We’re going to need to reach a high point in the city,” Riordan suggested. “…I’m thinking the top of Fort Drakon might work.”

Alistair looked to the elder Warden. “The top of…? You want to draw the dragon’s attention?”

“We have little choice,” Riordan said. “Though I warn you that as soon as we engage the beast it will call all its generals to help it. I can sense two generals in Denerim. You may wish to seek them out before going to Fort Drakon.”

Leliana piped up at the suggestion. “I’m sure that if we did slay those generals, it would stop the darkspawn in the city from doing a lot of harm!”

“It may also waste resources trying to find them,” Riordan said gravely. “The decision is up to you.”

_“Waste resources” as in “lose the lives of many soldiers in the process.”_

Niko nodded. “Do you know where these generals are?”

“Neither of them are near Fort Drakon currently, but there are too many darkspawn here to tell you more. There are already several units of our allies within the city by now. They may be able to come to your assistance if you call them, but their strength will be limited. Now,” he said, straightening a little. “Who do you wish to take with you into the city?”

Niko felt many expectant gazes on his back and he was reluctant to turn and face them. Tactically, he knew who would be best to bring with him. He did not know which among them actually wished to come along and face the archdemon however. Not one of them would he shame for wanting to stay behind to hold the gates. This was their most dangerous foe yet.

He turned to face them.

“Alistair, Morrigan, Sten,” he said finally. “You’re with me.”

He quickly looked back to Riordan to avoid Zevran’s stare. He knew what Zevran was feeling. He felt it too; a panic welling up inside knowing that they would be parting ways now… possibly for the last time.

Riordan nodded. “Fair enough. Anyone else will need to remain here and assist in keeping more darkspawn from coming in the gates behind us. Who will lead them?”

Niko glanced back at his group, catching only a glimpse of Zevran’s intent, amber gaze before fixing his eyes somewhere else. “Oghren.”

“Fine!” Oghren accepted gruffly. “Let’s just move on to the blasted main event already!”

The dwarf paced a little, and Niko shared his feeling of tension.

“Good. That should be sufficient,” Riordan said with a nod. His eyes met Niko’s, his jaw set as a moment of silence passed between them, filled by the sounds of chaos in the city. “Nothing you have done has prepared you for what you face now,” he told the young Warden.

Niko’s body stiffened, a chill in his spine. How true it was. He’d seen the beast in person once before… seen the army it commanded.

But now he would face it in battle.

“May the Maker watch over you.”

-o-o-o-

“Now this… may be the answer to the Arishok’s question,” Sten mused as they approached the gates.

Perhaps he was as astonished as Niko to march onward to the cheers of determined soldiers looking at them with pride and hope. A Qunari… a giant rock golem… an old mage… a chantry sister… a witch… a foreign elf with tattoos on his face…. a drunkard dwarf stripped of his caste… the King’s bastard son… a young elf from the slums of this very city…. and their dog. Half of them were seen as useless, trouble, monsters, or plain evil to these people. But that was not how the people were looking at them now. Now, what these people saw were heroes.

Niko fought hard to not buckle under the well of emotion he felt. He’d said his goodbyes, but he could feel the gazes of his friends lingering on his back as he entered the city. He couldn’t help but give once glance back at them all.

The market district seemed deserted at first, but Niko could sense the darkspawn nearby, like something stroking his brain. He was used to being able to sense them by now, but this time it made him squirm a little.

“I need to get to the alienage,” Niko told them, receiving nods of assent. No one was going to question him checking on his family.

They were not in the market district for long before they spotted a couple of genlocks rounding the corner. Along with Sten and Alistair, Niko cut through them easily enough. Morrigan stayed back, and was the first to notice the genlock emissary raising a staff a few feet away. She put up a temporary barrier as a chain of lightning was sent from the staff to strike them. It shielded them from the hit, but another emissary entered the fray.

They split from each other. Niko and Alistair went after one with their swords ready while Morrigan aided Sten against the other.

The emissaries were frustrating, casting misdirecting hexes on them, spells that leeched on their inner strength and souls, and firing off chains of lightning that electrified their entire bodies. But it was nothing they hadn’t faced before. Morrigan took control of the battlefield, casting spells in just the right places, keeping her team protected while they did the heavy-hitting.

Niko trembled, his body sore as he wiped sweat from his brow. He watched the enemies fall one by one. Then a faint sound caught his attention, and it only took half a moment for him to realize it was the familiar sound of an arrow being loosed. He turned just in time to strike the arrow away with his dagger, seeing who had sent it. A genlock archer stood yards away, reaching for another arrow to shoot at him. He went after it on his own as his companions finished off what was left of the others.

It was a mistake.

As he neared the archer, Niko’s darkspawn senses spiked, feeling a wall hit him. He looked left, catching sight of a massive ogre, purple-skinned and blood-mottled teeth. It hulked towards him and Niko ran back.

_Bam!_

Another wall at his right. Another ogre appeared from behind a building. Big, meaty hands clenched and were ready to swing at him.

He ducked a boulder-sized fist and tried to switch directions, but the first ogre snatched him up in a bruising hold.

Struggling, Niko felt terrible, constricting pain and was flooded with dread and panic. This could be it. He wouldn’t even make it to the archdemon!

_No! NO!_

The ogre roared, big globs of spit spraying at Niko as it raised him up. With wide eyes, he stared at the ogre’s open mouth, the gore of previous prey sticking to its thick teeth. The other ogre stood beside it, reaching out to pull at Niko so they could break him in two and smash his remains into the ground.

But suddenly the beast roared as a great-sword hacked at its knees, blood spurting like a wave. It dropped Niko, who rolled when he hit the ground, getting to his feet. He found Sten slicing the ogre to a bloody, stumbling mess with Asala. The other ogre had to contend with Alistair and blasts from Morrigan’s staff. She simultaneously sent magical aid to her companions as well as combat spells, moving with fierce grace and agility. A fire spell scorched the genlock archer’s face before it could shoot the arrow that it had aimed at her. A lightning bolt finished the job, striking the creature dead.

They had only a moment to catch their breath before several more ogres stomped into the area.

“Is there no end to them?” Alistair huffed, gripping his shield and sword tighter.

As Niko debated retreat, the rallying sound of a battle horn broke the dam of overwhelming fright, and at least 50 soldiers flooded the field. Niko watched his men on the front lines take on the ogres, a vicious foray of steel-armed soldiers flinging themselves onto the giant, horned beasts.

The darkspawn fell. Their own soldier’s fell. The Archdemon’s general fell. Niko’s goal was within sight. The gates to his home…

“Quickly,” Niko commanded, sweat dripping from his brow as he sheathed his sword, gaining the immediate attention of his remaining soldiers. He looked upon them, feeling power surge through his body with the weight of dozens of gazes on him. _Human_ soldiers were hanging on his word, ready to act on his orders. “Get to the alienage!”

“Wardens!”

Niko and Alistair turned, their heads snapping up to see who had called for them.

A small squad of Denerim guards jogged over, their stained armor looking well-used from defending the city. At the head of the group was a tall, muscular man with short dark hair and a handsome face.

A _familiar_ face.

“We’re here to aid you, Grey Wardens,” the man said, straightening up. “My squad and I have been trying to evacuate the streets and protect as many of Denerim’s citizens as we can. We are directing any stragglers to the Chantry. But wherever you need us, we will go. I’m Sergeant Jeran, at your service my King.”

Alistair and Niko watched the man give a quick bow to the new King. Niko’s jaw tightened, a swirl of emotions in his stomach at the sight of his ex-lover.

As Jeran stood once more, his eyes fell on Niko and betrayed no sign of recognition. But there was… something. Something Niko couldn’t read. A large hand fell on his shoulder and Niko glanced up at Alistair, feeling small beside him and these Denerim guards. He couldn’t help but wonder if any of them took part in the purge.

It made his blood in his veins boil. He just wanted to cross that bridge for the same reason he crossed it nearly a year ago. To fight for his family.

“Glad to have you. We’ll take all the help we can get,” Alistair told them. “Here is your commander,” he said, the weight of his hand on Niko’s shoulder feeling suddenly more encouraging than intrusive. “Now as he said. Let’s take down one more general and then we’ll have a go at the archdemon. To the alienage!”


	27. The Dragon's Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the Battle of Denerim, darkspawn are winning. Allies are found among old friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: I think it's been like 8 months since my last update. It's been hard to get back into writing this with the hours I work. However, I am on medical leave right now so I'm hoping to finish this up by mid-July. Should be one or two more chapters left... Maybe 3. We'll see.
> 
> Surana returns once again in this chapter. And Niko's ex-lover is in this one too.
> 
> Rating: T for violence

 

“Let me guess,” Niko said as they ran across the bridge to the alienage. “No one thought to evacuate the elves to the Chantry?”

Sergeant Jeran, who was at the front with the Grey Wardens, glanced to Niko with a raised brow. “Not enough to get the task done I'm afraid.”

Niko snorted, but the fact that his former lover managed to look genuinely self-conscious at the question stifled most of the heat in his outrage.

With the two Wardens at the lead, city guards behind them, and a unit of soldiers from Redcliffe, they rushed into the slums, armor clanking and more than one hundred boots thumping hard against cobblestone and dirt. Behind dingy curtains covering little hovel windows, large eyes peeked out, just enough to see but not be seen. Niko caught a glimpse before the curtains were hurriedly shut once again. They drew attention coming in here, especially in a fearful community where one grew up learning to run and hide from the sounds of humans marching in.

What a remarkable day when those sounds heralded rescue instead of hostility.

As they approached the middle of the alienage, Niko looked up to see the Vhenadahl tree, the proud symbol of his people, loomed by a blood red sky. Shianni was near the base of the tree, bow and arrows at her back. A handful of other elves with her were armed with meager blades and other makeshift weapons.

“Cousin...?” she said, surprised, a fearful waver in her voice. “Oh am I glad to see you! The alienage is under attack! There is a large group of darkspawn approaching and the gates won't hold! We need your help!”

“I'll handle this!” Niko stepped passed her, trying getting a look at the barricade they elves had managed to erect. “Get yourselves to safety!”

“No!” Shianni said, surprising him. He turned to look at her and saw the steel determination in her eyes. “This is my home as much as it is yours! If you're going to fight, then I will too!”

“We're with you!” another archer beside her promised.

Niko couldn't help but give a smile, as burdened by worry and fright as it was. A year ago, barely anyone in the alienage was willing to pick up a weapon and fight for themselves. Now they were rallying, scared but determined.

“Tell us what to do,” Shianni said, quietly braced for battle now. “and we'll fight for as long as we can.”

Niko gave her a nod. He looked to all the elves around him. “Stay back! Defend your homes!” he told them.

“You heard what he said!” Shianni grabbed her bow and and arrow from her quiver. “Come on!”

“We defend the barricade,” Niko told his soldiers.

He heard a sudden shrieking behind him.

“They're upon us!”

They ran down to the gate, feeling the ground beginning to shake underfoot as they neared. An ogre was at the front, punching the weak barricade. Elven archers flanked the stages overlooking the gate, firing shots into the crowd of darkspawn trying to claw their way in. One arrow dug into the thigh of the ogre, but that did not stop the beast. Another took out a genlock and many more glanced off armor. Morrigan went to join the archers up the stairs, readying the mana for a heavy-hitting spell.

Niko waited below with the others, at the front, ready to meet the darkspawn. They stood out of the way. The heavy punches the ogre threw at the gate sent a shiver through every soldier and elf. They all heard the hissing growls beyond the gate, the sounds of eager darkspawn lusting for blood.

The gate was about to break. Niko saw the wood splintering.

“Get ready!”

The gate blasted away in pieces. Alistair, and Sten met the ogre head on while Niko turned to it's flank.

Sten blocked the ogre's reaching hand with Asala, swiping upward to knock it away and slicing open its palm and severing the tips of two fingers.

Two hurlocks came at Alistair with bloodied swords. He raised his shield, shouting taunts, and charged to ram them into a wall, then turned to stab at the ogre's wounded thigh where the arrow was embedded. The creature roared, only to be struck again by Niko's two blades.

Just as blood squirted from the two wounds, Niko heard the boom of a sudden explosion of fire. He saw flames licking up above the wall, but did not see the source. He didn't have time to look either. Quick whispers stroked his senses, telling him to watch his back. The elven Warden turned, his long-sword outstretched to catch the sharp end of another. He knocked the weapon from the genlock trying to flank him and ran the bastard through.

Another roar deafened him momentarily as the ogre fell beside him. Niko jumped out of the way, landing at the feet of soldiers who were rushing passed to get through the broken gateway.

With the ogre down, the fight was no longer forced into close quarters. Niko rolled to his feet and ran forward, jumping over bodies covering the path. Ahead, beyond the gate, a heap a darkspawn corpses littered the ground, blackened with char and still hot from what was evidently Morrigan's inferno.

As they crossed the splintered gate, Niko felt it. The general was here. Alistair felt it, too, he realized as the warrior glanced to him. Many darkspawn remained in the alienage, but the general was their main target. It stood out among the others, both in the way they sensed the creature and when they finally saw it. This one had magic. It raised a staff, summoning a glyph around it. Soldiers that tried to fight through it were thrown back by an invisible force then electrified by the general's spell. But every blow they managed to land weakened it.

Morrigan came to join them, shooting her own spells at the barrier. Soon the general was forced to move, quickly met by the arrows loosed by elven archers. Being that they were not well trained, many missed, but a few managed to stick.

Niko moved to go after the spell-casting general, but hesitated, thinking of his family defending their homes not far behind him. He thought of Ostagar and Lothering and other ransacked villages, where survivors were dragged off with the horde.

He remained, cutting through any darkspawn that neared the gate. He scanned the field swiftly, his eyes landing on Jeran.

The man fought with a superior strength, felling one darkspawn after another. He came closer, slicing through screeching monsters on his way.

“Jer- ..Sergeant Jeran!” Niko shouted.

The soldier looked at him. He turned, grunting through clenched teeth as he ran his sword through a hurlock and kicked it off with his armored boots.

“Yes Commander?”

“Don't let them back through!” Niko ordered. “You and your men protect the civilians in the alienage!”

“Yes sir!” Jeran agreed without hesitation.

Niko sprinted to Alistair’s side where the other Warden fought through grunts to get to the general.

Sten was there a second later. His large hand gripped the head of a genlock running at the Wardens and threw it to the ground, raising his gigantic sword and bringing it straight down through its middle.

The general eyed them, sparks crackling at the tip of its staff. It shot electricity at the three of them. And though they jumped away, the spell found them, sending shocks through their bodies.

They scrambled to their feet, swords at the ready, and came at the general from three different directions. It conjured something more powerful this time, fire that washed over them with deadly force. It knocked Niko off his feet, burning his face, pain shooting up and down his whole body. He opened his eyes to see Sten and Alistair in a similar way.

They forced themselves to stand. The creature laughed darkly behind its helmet. The next blow would kill someone...

But its mana was drained. This was the time to strike, not retreat. All three of them rushed the general once more. It raised its staff for one more spell...

But it suddenly froze.

There was a glimmer in the air around the creature. Body stiff and pulled taut, the darkspawn general still managed to look alarmed despite the helmet covering its face.

An invisible prison was crushing its body.

Alistair, Sten, and Niko paused, turning to see Morrigan with her staff pointed at the general, misty blue magic swirling around the tip. Niko ran toward the creature, driving his long-sword through armor, flesh, and sinew.

Blood spurted from the wound, the spell dissipated, and the body dropped.

Niko didn't waste any time returning to his family. He cut his way through darkspawn back to the gate, where he found Jeran still defending his post.

He looked pale, and he was bleeding from a wound in his side where his armor was punctured by an arrow. But he still fought with surprising skill. A large hurlock was raining heavy blows down on him with an unwieldy sword, but Jeran took each hit with his shield until he managed to sidestep the next blow. He then rammed his shield into the hurlock's sword arm, crushing it against a wall. The darkspawn let out an angry shriek. Its arm hung limp when Jeran disengaged, dropping its weapon. It took less than a second for the Sergeant to raise his blade and lop the hurlock's head clean off.

Jeran bore a look of satisfaction though he shook from pain and exhaustion. Bringing a hand to his side, he dropped to one knee.

Niko rushed over, kneeling in front of him. “Will you be alright? Alistair, get some supplies from our pa-”

“No need.” Jeran lifted a hand to stop him. “I'll be alright. Go.”

Niko nodded, placing a hand on the man's shoulder. “It was good to see you again.”

Jeran's gaze lifted to meet Niko's, a smile lifting his features. “And you as well.”

“I think the alienage is safe for now,” Alistair said as Niko stood to rejoin him, Sten, and Morrigan. “We've got to get to Fort Drakon.”

Niko gave a nod and headed back toward the Vhenadahl. “Let me make sure my family still lives,” he murmured, his steps gaining speed.

Shianni's bright red hair stood out among the the other elves. Niko rushed toward her. She turned to him, a look of excitement on her face as he neared. “We did it! I... I didn't think it was possible!”

He couldn't help but hug her tight when he reached her. “I'm so glad you're not hurt. Where is father and Soris?”

“They're in the house,” Shianni told him. “They're okay,” she assured. “You've come through for me again. For all of us.” She said, gesturing to the elves gathered beneath the Vhenadahl and those poking out of their front doors to see the victory for themselves.

Niko looked around him at his neighbors, his community. They were staring at him now much like they had the day he left. Only this time they were not muttering about what a troublemaker he was. They were not shouting “good riddance!” at him. This time was different.

“We will never forget this...” Shianni told him. “I'll make sure we never forget this.”

-o-o-o-

Niko, Alistair, Morrigan, and Sten rushed for the bridge. Niko wondered where Riordan was, if he still lived, and if their plan would work. It certainly wouldn't if they didn't make it to Fort Drakon. Searching out these generals had taken some hours out of their time.

“Oh Maker!” Alistair suddenly yelled, and only his fellow Warden knew why.

They both felt it; a heavy, evil presence coming, hovering above like a storm cloud.

Then, they all heard it. A rumbling, almost metallic growl as the the Archdemon itself swooped down from the sky. It came in fast, flying down toward them. It opened its mouth, shooting an immense blast of fire upon the bridge behind them. Niko and his party backed up, and the fire stopped just a foot away from them, burning the bridge down.

The four of them watched the Archdemon fly back up into the sky, over the rooftops and away from them.

“Great," Niko griped. "Now our soldiers are trapped on the other side.”

“At least the Archdemon chose not to burn us down along with the bridge,” Morrigan said pointedly.

“I shall inform the Arishok that the Archdemon is not without courtesy,” Sten grumbled.

Alistair turned to walk through the gate. “Let's go.” 

-o-o-o-

Once they neared Fort Drakon, Niko and Alistair slowed, sensing a handful of powerful darkspawn and many grunts. They did want to rush in.

Niko wasn't sure what it was like for Alistair, but he'd noticed a slow change in the way he sensed darkspawn. In the beginning, when he first accepted the taint into himself, sensing darkspawn was sudden and striking. It was almost overwhelming. But as the year passed, it eventually became more of a sense he could control. He could feel around for them, “looking” for darkspawn rather than waiting for the sense to hit him. Three down that alley, five on the staircase to the left, six on the right... Emissaries and Ogres flanking the stairs and above...

Niko crouched behind a wall and his companions joined him. “Here's the plan,” Niko started. He glanced behind the wall, wishing – not for the first time – that Zevran were here with him. “Morrigan, bring that fire of yours down on the grunts. The rest of us will focus on the big ones. We've got at least three ogres and a few of the ones with magic too. Be careful.”

“Niko!”

The four of them turned to see another group from the army coming down the opposite path. It was a group of a dozen or so mages, Alim among them.

Niko stood to greet his childhood friend once again. “Good to see you, Surana.” He reached out to shake the other elf's hand. “You came at a good time.”

"Have you seen my mother?" Alim asked quickly. "I wanted to go to the alienage but-"

“How can we help?” another man, probably a senior mage, interjected.

Niko nodded towards Morrigan. “Stick with her. Follow her lead. This is going to be a dangerous fight, so keep your distance. Let's go.”

They moved forward, but Niko inched toward Alim Surana. "I didn't see your mom. But I was at the Alienage. They're alright for now."

Alim looked at him and nodded silently, and Niko was unsure if what he said reassured the other elf at all.

When they came to a set of two stairs, they split the troops, Alistair and Niko taking the left, Morrigan and Sten leading the right.

Alim kept close to Niko, unleashing area spells when he was ordered, and granting whatever healing help he could manage. An emissary came after them early, shooting lightening bolts at them. The mages froze the creature right away, and Alistair bashed it to pieces.

At the top of the stairs, genlock archers loosed arrows. Towering above them, an ogre stood with a pile of rocks the size of a man's head.

“Watch out!” Alistair yelled as one of those rocks was hurtled towards them.

Too late. One of the younger mages was knocked back off the staircase, his scream cut short. He landed with a bloodied skull on the cobblestone below. An arrow went through the neck of another mage, blood gurgling from her open mouth as she fell.

When another rock came flying, the remaining mages reached out and caught it in a telekinetic cradle... then threw it the genlock archers, taking out two.

A hail of rocks and arrows rained down, but by now the mages had constructed an arcane barrier to deflect them.

Alim blasted fire and lightening at the archers while the other mages held the barrier. Niko and Alistair charged when the ogre ran out of rocks to throw. Niko cut down the archers quickly with his double blades while Alistair went for the ogre.

An alpha hurlock came at them, aiming a large, primitive sword at Niko. He deflected with his long sword, then turned to slash open a genlock. While the twisted dwarven-like body dropped, he re-engaged the hurlock, dodging and deflecting heavy blows. One of the archers grabbed an arrow from its quiver and pulled its arm back to stab Niko in the neck. But the Warden caught its wrist and kicked it down the stairs so he could turn and finish off the hurlock.

Niko felt his strength sapping from his body as he moved to help Alistair with the ogre. Sweat beaded down his temple and back. His limbs felt weak. But slowly, vigor came back to him... as well as familiar itch. He glanced to see Alim sending him a powerful flow of stamina.

He also saw a shriek running up behind the mage, aiming to cut him down.

“NO!” Niko shouted. Fueled my a magical reserve of strength and speed, he took a running leap down the stairs and landed upon the Shriek, blades sinking into its back.

Alim fell backwards on the stairs, scrambling away from the creature.

But it was dead. Niko pulled his blades out and rushed back up the steps. He was startled by Alistair's sudden shout of pain. The ogre had scooped him up in a one-handed grip. It tightened its grasp around him, then started punching with its other big meaty fist.

A mage's fireball shot the ogre in the face, causing it to roar in anger and pain. Alistair used that moment to lift his long-sword and slash at the monster's wrist. At the awkward angle, it wasn't enough to lop its hand off, but it was hurt enough to loosen its grip on Alistair. He dropped to the ground, bruised and sore all over. But with Niko at his side again, the two of them hacked at the beast. Alistair deflected its attempts to punch and grab them with his shield. As it reached to pull the shield from his hand, Niko lunged with his sword and dagger, digging them into the ogre's arm. It roared, pulling back from them, but Alistair took the opening and ran his sword into the ogre's throat.

Niko retrieved his blades from the ogre's arm.

The staircase and the cobblestone below were cluttered with bloody corpses, mostly darkspawn. But they'd lost two mages as well and the others were trying to pull the bodies from the mess.

“I wouldn't do that,” Alistair warned them.

“They're our friends,” Alim argued.

“But you risk catching the darkspawn taint picking through those bodies. I'm sorry. Leave them.”

Sadly, they turned from the bodies to follow the Wardens up the stairs.

“Wait!” Niko hissed, turning in time to see a hot blast of fire and electricity shooting down the stairs.

The spell landed, exploding at their feet. Cries of pain erupted. Niko and Alistair fell with the mages, shocked to the core by the electricity, but their armor kept most of the searing heat from their bodies. The spellcasters were not so lucky. Niko sat up, the mages bodies laying around him, robes singed and flesh burned.

Not dead, not all of them, but badly injured. Alim lay almost completely still at the base of the stairs, eyes closed and lips quivering. Niko ignored the urge to go to him and help, instead making his way up the stairs. Alistair was already ahead of him. The warrior deflected another firebolt with his shield. The flames burned hot but harmless against it.

They pushed their way to the top of the stairs. The emissary moved its hands rapidly, readying another spell, but instead was shot by a slew of ice blasts. Niko and Alistair turned to see Sten and Morrigan's group rushing up to meet them from the other side. Only three mages remained with them.

Together they took down the last of the darkspawn at the foot of Fort Drakon.

Niko ran back down the stairs where the injured mages still lay. He found Alim unmoving, his face and robes burned. He heard the other mages above him at the top of the stairs coming to look, and their cries of horror as they rushed down to help.

“Alim can you hear me?” Niko asked, fear flowing through his body, leaving his muscles stiff and hands shaky. He thought of Alim's mother back in the alienage. Maker knows if she was alive either.

Guilt and anger and sadness flooded Niko, but it all stuttered when he felt a pulse in Alim's wrist. “He's alive.” He told the mages as they came to the foot of the stairs to check the others.

“Niko, look!” Alistair shouted to him.

Niko glanced to his fellow Warden, who was pointing high in the sky. All eyes followed now, spotting the evilness soaring up there.

The Archdemon.

And on a high tower atop Fort Drakon, a man leaped onto the dragon's back.

 

 


	28. The Archdemon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Grey Wardens face the Archdemon atop Fort Drakon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Well this is a short chapter... Sooo I was going to only have one more chapter after this one, but I really hate numbers that end in 9. So I can't just have 29 chapters. I'll find a way to space it out into 30, even if that means making them short. But that means just two chapters left for sure. I start back to work in a week, so I'll try to get what I can done before then, but I can't make promises that it will be finished in a week. I'll do my best. Thanks for reading!
> 
> Chapter Rating: T
> 
> Pairing: Zevran/(M)Tabris

Gloved fingers worried at a silver amulet hanging from a thick chain around his neck. Niko's mind continued to wander to the body lying lifeless at the foot of Fort Drakon.

Riordan had jumped from the top of the fort onto the Archdemon's back. He managed to make more than one serious wound to the dragon, forcing it to land atop the fort, injured but still deadly. Unfortunately, the senior Warden had fallen to his death in the effort.

This meant it was Niko who would have to make the killing blow. Though he or Alistair even making it to the top of the fort had been a gamble, this had always been a possibility.

As they climbed the stairs towards the top, Niko glanced back at Morrigan to see her yellow gaze fixed on him as well, as if she knew what he was thinking. She gave a slow nod. This was what they had prepared for. This was why they'd performed the ritual.

Niko was not sure if it had been the right decision. Maybe it wouldn't work. Maybe it would work, but perhaps it should not have been done in the first place; a crime against nature. Against the Maker.

And as his fingers clutched at the mirror-backed amulet, he prayed. He prayed sincerely for perhaps the first time since his mother died. He prayed to the Maker to protect his companions, prayed that he and Zevran would be reunited, that the Archdemon would fall, that his family would see the light of tomorrow, that Ferelden and Thedas would be saved. And he hoped against hope that Leliana's version of faith was truer than he had ever believed.

He ran his thumb over the old Chantry symbol on the front of the amulet, turning it to look at the back. Since he'd first gotten the amulet from the specter at Haven, he continued to search for the smile he'd glimpsed on the back of the amulet, but it had never reappeared. As if it were a ghost itself, he had only a distinct but brief memory of what he'd seen. He didn't fully expect it to return now, but it didn't stop him from looking and hoping for a sign.

Coming to the top steps, they could hear the beast outside. Rumbling growls and unearthly roars sent trembles of fear through their hearts.

Some soldiers were following the party up to join them at the top. But now was the time to greet the Archdemon personally.

Niko stopped at the looming door. "Is everyone ready?" he asked quietly.

He was met with silent nods.

Reaching for his amulet to tuck it back under his armor, he paused. He thought he saw, once more, a fleeting familiar smile.

But perhaps, he wondered, it was merely wishful thinking playing tricks on a desperate mind.

-o-o-o-

The only two remaining Wardens ran through the archway onto the roof, their companions and soldiers on their heels. They came to a halt, all gazes climbing up to take in the massive, fanged terror in front of them. The Archdemon up close far surpassed any nightmare.

The soldiers already atop the fort were being massacred. Their bodies were struck hard by the Archdemon's jagged tail, flung to unmoving heaps on the ground. The long trail of arrows shot into the beast's neck went ignored. It screeched at the archers, lowering it's gigantic head to bat them away like weightless training-dummies. From the creature's mouth came the gurgling cry of a man clutched in its jaws. Blood streamed from the large punctures in his armor and out of his mouth, his skin going pale as he was drained. He was still alive though when he was tossed far over the fires and the sea of troops, his scream fading as he flew over the building out of sight.

Blood splattered the ground where an injured archer, trying to crawl away, was suddenly crushed by a clawed foot as large as his own broken body.

When the Archdemon opened its great jaws, the sound of grinding and screeching metal erupted, deafening all nearby. It was followed by impossible black and purple magic-fire, and the screams of soldiers caught in the searing flames joined the heavy metallic pitch of the monster's cry.

Their bodies went down in flames, turning black and dry like firewood, skin melting and shriveling.

It saw them then. Like it had in their dream. It saw them and knew who they were, sensed the same taint in them that filled its own corrupted veins.

Niko shuddered, feeling that similarity, that connection to this monster.

It opened its jaws and gave the Wardens and ear-splitting greeting.

"To arms!" Alistair called, his voice rising with the archdemon's thundering bellow.

He surged forward, along with Niko and Sten. Morrigan hung back with the Dalish archers that sprinted onto the battlefield. Human soldiers ran up to the ballistae positioned at the corners of the roof. The large spears that shot from the weapon did significant damage, embedding in the creature's already bleeding body.

Niko ducked the enormous tail that swung over him. He'd fought two dragons before, but they did not completely prepare him to deal with the sheer nightmare that was the Archdemon. It was more than a dragon; it was the head of the Blight itself.

He plunged his blades expertly into the beast's hind legs, at the ankle. The monster roared and suddenly kicked backwards at him. He tried to jump back as he pulled out his blades but only partially managed to avoid the blow. He crashed to the ground and quickly forced himself back to his feet. He could see Alistair running around to the dragon's flank, using his shield to block heavy swipes from it's front claws.

Sten used Alistair's distraction to make a few significant blows of his own. He stepped back just in time as the other claw came back and took down the line of soldiers fighting beside them.

Niko rushed in to stab the creature, but he was suddenly colliding with twisted violet scales and knocked onto his back as the Archdemon flung itself into the air. It's wing was damaged but it was able to land on the other side of the fort. As the dust cleared, Niko carefully got to his feet, witnessing a ballista's spear come clattering to the ground where the Archdemon once stood.

Another deafening cry splintered through their minds far behind them where the beast had landed.

The Wardens' senses pulsed, and Niko and Alistair both spun around to see darkspawn spilling onto the roof.

The ones at the front clashed with the archers, cutting them down. Soldiers rushed to meet them, joining the elves to take on the new mass of foes.

Morrigan lashed out with spells, burning darkspawn down in their paths.

Niko, Alistair, and Sten turned their focus back to the Archdemon. Numerous spears jutted from the dragon's body beside the jagged spikes that made up the creature's spine. But the ballista attacks ceased when the darkspawn swarm took out the soldiers stationed there.

Soldiers descended on the Archdemon, attacking with swords and axes. Arrows split its contorted skin and blood seeped down its back and torso. Still, the Archdemon fought with such quick and brutal force, rows upon rows of soldiers fell.

Niko's heart beated wildly in his chest, dodging claws as long as his sword and ducking massive limbs that would crush him in an instant if he made the wrong move. It was hard to land a proper blow on the creature, anything that would do significant damage to weaken it. Bloody scales fell from the beast's body as he carved at it, but it raged on as if unfazed.

Sten hefted his weighty sword with both hands, bringing it down in a clean arch on the Archdemon's torso. The beast screamed in stunning fury. With impossible speed, it whipped its large head around, opening is giant maw.

"Move!" Niko shouted, lunging out of the way.

Sten managed to duck and roll just as a torrent of black and purple energy blasted anyone left in the path. Niko landed on his stomach, lifting his head despite the dizzying screech that rang in his ears. All he could see was a dark maelstrom, bodies turning black and crumbling to ash and char.

Shouting with fury, Niko pushed himself to his feet and sprinted toward the beast. He lifted his blades, but a swift swipe of the monster's claws sent him tumbling back. Pain shot through his middle, and he pressed his hand there, feeling torn leather. His hand came away with a smear of blood. He took a breath, feeling nothing critical was harmed. He picked up his fallen weapons and jumped back into the fray.

Purple and black energy whirled around into violent explosions that blasted near him. Cries of pain and death erupted with them.

By the time Niko reached the Archdemon again, it flew up out of the way again, soaring toward the other side of the rooftop.

Cursing, Niko led the troops through a mass of darkspawn, bringing his sword down on genlocks and slicing through shrieks. His muscles screamed and the wound on his stomach stung, but Niko pushed through the battle to reach the heart of the Blight.

The ballistae were once again manned by soldiers and the spears shot into the Archdemon from two different corners.

The monster raged, blood soaking the floor beneath it.

It was time to end this.

Niko and Alistair rushed to the front of the fight. The Archdemon reared back, bringing it's massive claws down on them. But the Wardens dodged out of the way, swinging sharp blades at thick, bloodied scales. They hacked away pieces of flesh, dark, foul-smelling blood splattering them with taint.

The dragon leaped and landed, shaking the ground, trying to pulverize them. Niko staggered, blindly swinging his blades to ward off the deadly claws the beast threw at them. He swung his sword to the left, just in time to sink deep into the dragon's neck. The Archdemon reared its head back in pain, but Niko's weapon caught and he was pulled up into the air along with it, his body laying across its face. The rumble of the dragon's growl vibrated through Niko's body. True fear slithered through his veins as the creature opened its back eyes, peering back at his horrifed gaze. He didn't wait to see what it would do. He plunged his other blade into the Archdemon's head and the creature screeched, throwing him around as it thrashed in pain.

Niko was dislodged. He saw the ground, fires, bodies, and a red sky tumbling as he was hurtled to the hard ground. Thrown from such a height, his vision blackened when he crashed.

When he lifted his head, everything blurred. There was a ringing in his head that drowned out every scream and the roar of every fire that had broken out on the rooftop. As his vision cleared, he could see no one around, except corpses on the ground. Ahead of it all, lying in a heap, was the Archdemon. It's massive body moved only slightly, slowly, as it clung to life with shallow breaths.

The ringing faded and Niko could hear his own breaths, ragged and heavy as he pushed himself to stand once more. Finally, he could see Alistair nearby struggling to get up as well. He glanced around, seeing Morrigan using her staff to pull herself up. Her gaze found him, and Niko had the sudden feeling that this would be the last he ever saw of her. He turned to Alistair and gave him a nod.

He didn't see his weapons around, lost in the bloody mess of corpses surrounding him. But a large sword stuck out of one of the fallen soldiers ahead of him.

Though sweat and blood streaked his skin, and his muscles begged for rest, Niko threw himself forward and sprinted, heavy breaths dragged from his lungs with searing pain. Smoke billowed around him as fires raged on. He leaped over corpses, reaching out for the hilt of the heavy blade. The familiar weight in his hands and the sight of the Archdemon lying in his path gave him a rush of confidence as he dashed toward victory.

The great dragon lifted its head when it saw him rushing forth. With a pained but angry roar, the Archdemon lunged out with jaws full of teeth. Niko ducked just in time to avoid them. He brought up the sword and slid forward in one smooth motion. The blade pierced deep inside the dragon's neck, heavy falls of blood landing on Niko as he ran the blade down the length of the Archdemon's neck.

It screamed in agony, head rolling back, skin flapping open, revealing bone and black sinew. Niko hauled himself up out of the way and the head came crashing back down in front of him.

It wasn't finished yet. He could hear the rapid beating in his ears, his heart thrumming along with the Archdemon's. With all the strength he could muster, he lifted the weighty sword in two hands, roaring as he leaped and brought it down hard on the Archdemon's skull.

The blade split through flesh and bone, a sudden light shooting out of the wound and into the sky beyond where the eye could see. The light spread all around Niko and grew blinding, and even behind closed eyes it burned through. Vibrations rose up through the sword to Niko's hands, throughout his arms, and spread to his core.

With sudden force, the Warden's body was thrown from the Archdemon's corpse. He landed hard against stone, a roaring boom deafening him.

The light faded as his eardrums rang.

Then silence.

...Darkness...


	29. In Hushed Whispers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Archdemon fell, but what of Ferelden's hero?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Very short chapter because I'm trying to space it out to 30 chapters in total. I'm still struggling to find time to write, but it's so close to the end here. I regret that I don't have the time anymore, because if I did I think these chapters would be longer, written better, and published sooner. But I think I'm satisfied with what I've got here. If I'm not, they can always be edited in the future... Also regret that I've left people waiting for updates so long...
> 
> Naming this chapter after a quest/soundtrack from Dragon Age Inquisition.
> 
> Chapter Rating: Umm.. K? K+? Just some death themes in this one.
> 
> Pairing: Zevran/(M)Tabris

 

 

… _... The Archdemon..._

… _...he..._

_… _...Light...__

… _...it..._

Whispers beckoned in the lonely darkness.

… _...Wardens..._

… _..._

… _...the..._

… _...Army..._

… _..._

Whether or not they were meant for him he wasn't sure, as he caught only fragments of them.

… _...Taint..._

… _..._

… _...we..._

… _..Morrigan..._

… _..._

The silence stretched on. Darkness overwhelming. And so lonely...

…...

_'Am I dead?'_

… _.._

That wasn't the plan.

...Morrigan's ritual...

…... His heart lurched at hope, but...

...Had it not worked? ..Maybe the Archdemon's death had taken his life too...

..Or...

Perhaps it had worked.. but...

...His injuries were too grave to heal..

_'This deathly feeling.. Almost familiar. Back at Ostagar... Flemeth... at the tower.. Feels like that had... but... Thoughts flowing far.. like.. running water... washing away...'_

So hard to listen... Whispers.. gone...

…...

" _So here we part ways."_ he suddenly heard.

Not heard. _Remembered_. The most heartbreaking words...

" _You do not wish me to stand by you in the end?"_

Zevran.

He sounded so sad. And scared... Niko was too.

He remembered his response to Zevran. Desperately he tried to speak the words, but he could not hear his own voice.

" _In truth,"_ Zevran continued _, "for the chance to be by your side, I would storm the Dark City itself. Never doubt it."_

...

Then there was silence again.

Silent weeping. Silent wailing.

-o-o-o-

"Zev.."

It was the quietest of murmurs that came from the Warden's lips. But the other elf heard it. Though he'd begun to doze off in a chair in the corner of the room, Zevran's eyes opened suddenly. He straightened and stared at Niko's motionless body, wondering if he'd dreamed the sound. But he no longer doubted his ears when he saw the smallest tremor of Niko's lips. Movements stiff but sure, he pushed himself to rise and go to his Grey Warden.

Zevran's muscles tensed as he came to kneel at Niko's side. His eyes remained intent on the Warden's face, searching for another sign that he was awake. "I'm here, mi amor," he spoke softly, placing his hand atop Niko's.

His love had laid in a small bed for many hours. The tiny room was filled with the pungent scent of healing herbs and salves. A single wooden chair occupied a corner of the room, where Zevran had perched so long his body begged to be stretched. In the other corner, Niko's faithful mabari dozed. Though now at Zevran's sudden movement, Gideon was lifting his head to see what was happening.

Zevran held his breath, his hand tightening on Niko's. He wanted so badly for him to wake up. Wynne had been in a few moments ago, administering a great deal of healing magic. She had high hopes, said the Warden had suffered a concussion and might be out for hours, maybe even days. But there had been some doubt to her voice. Zevran heard it at the tail end of her words, saw it in her tight-lipped smile. There was a chance he might...

And then Niko's eyelids suddenly began to flutter, and Zevran finally inhaled.

-o-o-o-

Despite the dull throbbing in his head, the first thing Niko noticed when he woke, even before opening his eyes, was that he was... itchy.

Just a faint but annoying itch traveling all over his body. His head, his neck, his back, his arms and legs. Everything. He wanted to scratch, but his arms were just too heavy.

Itchy and sore, yet otherwise he felt rather cozy where he laid. There was a comforting presence near, holding his hand. Zevran, he imagined. Or Wynne. Healing magic would explain the itch. Finally he opened his eyes to see where he was. He could see the corner of a tall linen shelf towering above him, wilted flowers in a vase sitting atop it. Dust particles floated around in the yellow morning light filtering through the window above him. Thin curtains billowed gently with the breeze.

"Thank the Maker," he heard, and his heart soared at the sound of Zevran's voice. "You are awake."

"Wha-" Niko started but stopped, wincing. His throat was so dry. He opened his mouth to ask for water, but Zevran was handing him a cup before he could request it.

With help, Niko gulped down the water for several moments before he tried to talk again.

"What happened?"

"You did it," Zevran said, exhilaration entering his voice. A grin lit his face, making Niko smile as well. "You killed the dragon. The darkspawn went running back to whatever pit they call home, and there is a rather large mess to clean up atop the fort." Zevran retold the story the same way he spoke of his own adventures and exploits. But his grin faded to a gentler smile as his eyes found Niko's. "You, the hero, were knocked unconscious. You've been having a good nap for the better part of a day... But perhaps we can leave that part out of the story, hm?" Zevran's mirth ebbed into warmth as he searched Niko's eyes. He reached over to stroke the Warden's hair. "The Blight is over, mi amor. You've won."

" _We've_ won," Niko corrected, the smile on his face widening.

Unable to contain himself any longer, Zevran leaned in, lips locking with Niko's. The kiss was gentle but filled with love and relief. Many taxing months of battle and sleepless nights and death and pain melted away like candle wax, the light of an unlikely victory burning bright.

Niko smiled against Zevran's lips. Finding that he was now able to lift his hands to grasp his lover's face, his fingers traveled a familiar path into long blond hair.

"We have much to celebrate," Zevran said when they finally parted. "And time do so. But I think now I should tell the others that you have awakened."

"Woof!"

Zevran and Niko turned to see Gideon watching them and standing beside the bed, tail wagging as he waited patiently for his turn to greet his master.

"Come here, boy!" Niko said, slowly and carefully sitting up.

Gideon bounced with joy, tail still wagging at an impressive speed. He jumped up onto the bed, whining and licking Niko's face. Zevran rose from the bed and watched Niko laugh and smile, hugging his hound tight.

The smile never left his face as he turned and went to seek out the others. Things would get better now. The Blight had claimed many lives. Farmland would need to heal. Villages would need to rebuild. But rebuild they would. And heal they would. And as for Zevran, those dreams of taking Niko to his beautiful Antiva City seemed so much more possible now.

He ran into Leliana and Wynne first, deep in discussion as they walked side by side down the hallway. One look at the grin on Zevran's face was all they needed to understand what had happened.

Before he could even get a word out, Leliana smiled brightly. "He is awake isn't he?"

Just like that, word soon filled the palace and spread to the streets of Denerim.

"The Hero of Ferelden lives!"


	30. The Coronation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter. Our hero lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Wow, this turned out to be a lot longer ride than I expected, but it's finally over. This is the final chapter. Didn't think it would take me so long to write this but I haven't had as much time or motivation to write like I did at the beginning ever since I started working, which was over two years ago. I'd be surprised if anyone who has been reading this since the beginning is still reading it, but if you are then you're awesome. And to any new readers, you are also awesome for getting to this last chapter. Thank you, thank you for reading, reviewing, etc. I'm glad there were some people who enjoyed it. This last chapter in particular was difficult for me to write. I've never written anything this long before and I didn't know how to end it. But I hope this is good. It's just an ending. It's not long and there are no plot twists or dramatics, but it's sweet and I like how it turned out, and I hope you guys do too. Once again, thanks for reading.
> 
> As for the sequel I planned on writing, I still plan to do that, but it wont have regular updates and it might be very inconsistent as far as the length of each chapter. I'm just gonna write it when I have ideas and inspiration and I'll update whenever.
> 
> Rating: K
> 
> Pairing: Zevran/(M)Tabris

 

Though the beam of light that shot from the archdemon atop Fort Drakon the evening of the Battle had signaled victory, the light of the morning after revealed a long rebuilding process ahead. The Alienage took a large portion of the damage. The bridge that led from the main gate was blasted in the middle. Homes that weren't touched by the Purge that came before were not so lucky against the onslaught of Darkspawn.

Still, Cyrion Tabris woke with a smile. For many months he'd woken with sadness, dreading the day ahead and the day after that, mourning the loss of his son and facing a future without him in it. The funeral had sat wrong with him though. They had no way of knowing if Niko had died with the other Grey Wardens. So Cyrion had held a small flicker of hope that his son had survived; and survive he had. But just as soon as Cyrion was able to sigh in relief, his son rushed into danger once again. And again Cyrion held hope in his heart along with the fear.

Then the news came; the Hero of Ferelden - the fine title they'd given his son - had lived. And so he woke with a smile.

He and Shianni had tried to go to the castle following the news, but no one was allowed in. There was no more news given at first. But soon the rebuilding began. And to everyone's surprise, a temporary new bridge leading to the alienage was among the first few installations that was started. It was no masterwork built for the ages, but it would work for the time being; once it was complete, that is.

Cyrion sat up on his bed, the old mattress creaking as much as his joints. His eyes wandered to the clean, crisp parchment he'd left sitting atop his night stand.

It was an invitation to King Alistair's coronation.

It was today. And since the bridge was still under construction and he'd have to take the longer route, Cyrion rose early to get ready so he wouldn't be late. Since he was allowed to bring a guest, he'd invited his niece, Shianni, to attend with him, but she'd declined, stating that she wanted to stay and help people in the alienage. There were so many people that needed help burning their dead, treating wounds, and finding shelter and food. And though it was true that she wanted to help, Cyrion also suspected part of the reason was that Shianni was unnerved by the prospect of being surrounded by so many nobles. He didn't press her on it though. He'd mentioned the event to Soris, but... well Soris still wasn't quite the same. The Hahren would have been his next choice to bring with him, but Valendrian - Maker preserve him - was gone and not coming back.

A little disappointed at going alone, but eager to see his son, Cyrion got on his way after a quick wash and dressing in his cleanest clothes. He didn't bother with breakfast before he left. There would surely be plenty to eat at the coronation.

There was quite a crowd outside the castle doors, larger than the old elf had ever seen. Not everyone was going in, however. Many were simply waiting, wanting to be part of the event even if they wouldn't see it themselves. As he pushed forward through the crowd, politely as he could manage, he heard whispers about the Hero of Ferelden making an appearance after the coronation.

Cyrion chuckled, his heart warmed at the thought of his son; a hero that humans clamored to catch a glimpse of.

Distracted by his thoughts, he bumped into a man in the crowd, who pushed him into the back of a chubby, red-haired fellow. The invitation fell from Cyrion's hand.

"Watch it knife ear!" the man who'd pushed him growled.

"P-pardon me." Cyrion murmured, instinctively bowing his head. He glanced around for the letter he dropped, more afraid that he would lose it than he was of being beaten up.

"Oi." The red-haired fellow turned. Though he wasn't a very intimidating man, there was a sharp anger in his eyes that startled the both of them as he glanced between them, taking in the situation. Finally his glare settled on the human. "The Hero of Ferelden is an elf. Let's see you call 'im a knife ear to 'is face."

The man opened his mouth to retort but closed it when two other people in the crowd turned to glare at him. The looks on their faces seemed to say they agreed with the man who had defended Cyrion.

"Thought so. How's about an apology then hm?" the red-head suggested, patting Cyrion's shoulder.

"Sorry," Cyrion mumbled automatically.

The red-headed man shook his head. "Not you ser, 'im." He pointed to the man who did the shoving.

"Deepest apologies," the man muttered and pushed his way to the back of the crowd to get away from the disapproving looks.

Cyrion turned to the man who'd helped him. "Thank you very much."

"Don't mention it," the man said, patting him on the shoulder again. "We elves gotta stick together," he said with a wink.

"Elf?" Cyrion asked in confusion. It was then that he spotted his invitation on the ground and he snatched it up quickly, his back protesting at his quick movement to bend down.

He clenched a groan behind his teeth as he stood up straight, folding his invitation neatly and grasping it firmly.

"Elf-blooded, anyway, on me mum's side," the man told him. "Name's Slim."

"Well thank you, Slim," Cyrion said again. Before he could introduce himself, there was a noise from the front gates, signaling the beginning of the coronation.

Slim pointed to the invitation in Cyrion's hand. "Hey that's your cue. Better get going."

Cyrion smiled and nodded, thanking him again as he hurried for the door. The guards gave him a long look, but they all allowed him through after presenting his invitation.

Cyrion entered the main hall, staring up at the tall ceilings, tapestries, and balconies in amazement. He could hardly believe he was here. He moved timidly, feeling out of place among all the well-dressed nobles and such around him. He looked more like one of the servants than a guest.

Thinking about his trouble outside, how he'd bowed his head to the human who pushed him, he couldn't help but be grateful that his son took after his wife, Adaia, more so than himself. All those years raising Niko, Cyrion worried for him. That fight in him that he carried was not good for an elf to have, Cyrion had always believed. But there had been nothing for it; and a good thing that turned out to be. Now Cyrion knew that what Adaia had taught their son saved him. As he thought on his wife, his weathered fingers found their way to the simple wedding band on his left hand, worrying at the metal as he'd done many times these last few months. When he came out of his thoughts, his eyes fell on a smiling face near the front of the room.

His son met his eyes and waved him over. Taking a second to remember how to move his feet, Cyrion moved forward, ignoring the humans around staring at him and going to his son.

Niko threw his arms around him when his father reached him. "I'm glad you made it."

Cyrion hugged him back tight and then withdrew to see his son's grinning face. "I wouldn't miss it for anything. Uh, your cousins would have came, but-"

Niko raised his hand and shook his head. "It's alright, father, I understand." He didn't blame his cousins for not wanting to come here. They'd been through a lot.

"How is the alienage?" Niko asked quietly.

Cyrion pursed his lips, thinking about how to respond. "It will take a lot of work... and time. But we'll find a way to rebuild."

"It will take money and supplies too," Niko told him, putting his arms behind his back and standing straighter when he saw people moving into place on the dais. "I've asked Alist-.. King Alistair to make sure the alienage isn't forgotten when rebuilding plans are made."

Everyone quieted when the coronation began. Alistair Theirin, in stunning gold armor, walked up to the dais; a Grey Warden, a hero, a new King.

Niko stepped forward a bit nearer to his companions when King Alistair addressed the crowd.

"My friends," Alistair said, "we are gathered to celebrate those responsible for our victory. Of those who stood against the darkspawn siege of Denerim, there is one in particular who deserves commendation. The one who led the final charge against the archdemon remains with us still, an inspiration to all he saved that day."

Cyrion watched his son walk up to the dais, a proud smile on his face, his eyes wet with unshed tears. He couldn't help himself. To see the hero his son had become moved him. He touched his wedding band again, knowing that if she could see them, Adaia was feeling just as proud as he was.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you the Hero of Ferelden, the first Grey Warden to defeat the Blight since Garahel four centuries ago."

What happened next, Cyrion had not expected. The new King of Ferelden offered Niko a boon, and his son asked that the elves be treated fairly. Niko request did not surprise him, but the King's suggestion did.

"What would you say to becoming the new bann of the Alienage," Alistair offered. "A voice for the elves in the Landsmeet?"

And Niko's response only left Cyrion more floored.

"I think Shianni would be a better choice."

Cyrion let out a breathy laugh. He couldn't wait to see Shianni's face when she heard.

King Alistair addressed the crowd again. "The Alienage will hereby have its own ruler and its own laws. Hopefully, this is only the beginning."

The King also declared that the arling of Amaranthine would be granted to the Grey Wardens, then asked Niko what his next plans were. The King appeared just as happy and relieved as Cyrion felt when Niko told of his plans to stick around for now.

While guests in attendance began mingling near the tables of food, goblets of wine and tankards of beer in hand, Cyrion continued to watch his son, still hardly believing his eyes. It was hard for him, remembering the boy his son had been and looking at him now; a fearsome slayer of darkspawn who took down Tevinter slavers and demons and whatnot. It perhaps wasn't too hard to believe for others that had known Niko before. He'd certainly been the adventurous, brave young man back then much like he was now. But Cyrion could still see his little boy; the one who cried when he had nightmares and skinned his knees after playing too hard with his cousins.

He smiled, watching his son have a brief conversation with the King before coming back down the steps towards him. Cyrion brushed his thoughts away as his son approached, bringing him back to the moment.

"My, my," he said slowly when Niko stopped in front of him. "I almost don't recognize my own son. First a Grey Warden and now a great hero? And you've even made Shianni a noblewoman, the voice of our people?" He paused, hearing the emotion in his voice and feeling the threat of happy tears again. He'd rather not sob in front of his son, even if they were tears of joy. "I barely know what to think. I am awed, and so proud..." He placed a firm hand on Niko's shoulder. "If only your mother had lived to see this day."

Niko smiled gently, looking at the ground, perhaps thinking the same thing. Cyrion suddenly remembered the wedding that never was. At the time, he'd longed for Adaia to be there to see it too. But when he'd said so, Niko didn't look happy about what was happening.

But today, he was happy. And that was all Cyrion wanted for him.

When Niko looked up at him again, he seemed worried. "I don't know if having a bann will change anything," he confessed.

Cyrion squeezed his shoulder. "And this is your fault? If anything, for Ferelden to have an elven hero will only do us good. Perhaps in time, with a new human on the throne, things will change for us. I can only hope it will be so."

Niko smiled again.

"But never mind your old man," Cyrion went on, knowing that others were waiting for his son; a whole crowd of others actually. "There is much for the Hero of Ferelden to do today, yes? Go... I shall speak to you soon."

Niko was about to turn, but paused and hugged his father again. "I love you, father. Thank you."

Despite his best efforts, a tear escaped Cyrion's eye. "I love you too, son."

-o-o-o-

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't procrastinating as he milled about, talking to his companions and others in the throne room. But honestly, Niko was kind of nervous about facing the crowd waiting for him outside.

"What am I supposed to do?" He asked a few of his companions as they all picked at the buffet. Niko was eating a few extra pieces of cheese in Alistair's honor since the poor King was being forced to do governance things at the moment. "Just stand there while they stare at me?"

"Just wave to them," Leliana suggested. "They came to see you because you saved them! Don't be nervous, silly."

"You faced an Archdemon without hesitation, yet you are nervous about facing a crowd of people cheering for you?" Wynne teased and chuckled. "Don't be ridiculous. Just go out and let them see you."

"Jus' get drunk first," Oghren suggested. "Gettin' good an' drunk before anythin' alwayss.. helpss..." He then belched loudly and took another swig of ale.

"Clearly you've taken your own advice," Sten grumbled, nose wrinkling at the smell.

"Hm.." Zevran quirked an eyebrow at his lover. "Well perhaps just a bit of wine to steady your nerves. Here, have mine," he said, handing his half-full goblet to Niko, who drank it down quickly. "That should do it," Zevran decided, patting Niko's back to comfort him. "Now off with you. Your adoring fans await!"

Niko frowned but allowed Zevran to push him towards the door.

"Are you ready, my lord?" One of the guards asked him. "The crowds outside are getting restless."

Niko gulped down his unease, glancing around for his companions. Oghren was in a corner chugging a barrel of pickle juice while Bann Teagan watched among a small group of onlookers. Sten was still at the buffet with the others, looking for cake. Cyrion had made his way over to the buffet table as well, helping himself to some of the food. His father glanced up at him then and smiled. Beside him, Leliana, Wynne, and Zevran were watching, waving him off with encouragement. Gideon barked in all the excitement, and Zevran threw him a wink.

The guard explained that there would be a full escort in shiny army to accompany him, putting him slightly more at ease. At least he wouldn't be all alone.

"Alright," Niko nodded. "Let's go."

The large doors opened to the outside, the bright afternoon sun momentarily blinding...

And Niko was glad that for the first time in long time it was light, and not darkness that greeted him.


End file.
